Remember?
by Rin22
Summary: What will it take to soften Woody's heart again? WJ postseason finale. FINISHED!
1. Losing Ground

As with the rest of the CJ masses, I was extremely frustrated by the season finale. I want to give Jordan and Woody a good kick in the rear right now…in the meantime, this lovely little ditty popped into my head. Believe it or not, it was inspired by a Jim Hensen song from one of the Muppet movies, so thanks going out there.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff… if I did, I would be able to pay my own way through college right now.

Please R&R... you can be honest, I'm an actress, I'm used to criticism :)

The hum of the Boston morgue barely phased Nigel Townsend as he stood leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his arms crossed in frustration across his chest. People walked briskly around him, handing over files, exchanging information, telephones were ringing and the sound of keyboards clicking away was almost nonstop. The late afternoon sun was starting to perform a greenhouse effect through the building's windows and reflected off of the polished floors. Yet, through all this, Nigel remained focused on one thing: the figure of Jordan Cavanaugh poised resolutely at her desk, doing the same thing she had been doing for nearly two weeks straight. Ever since Woody's trip to the hospital and Garret's voluntary exit from the morgue staff, Jordan had arrived at the office well before any of the regular staff, sat in her office all day working on file after file to figure out how to save Garret's reputation, stayed until the last person had gone home late at night and had to be nearly forced out by the night staff. And although he had no proof, Nigel was pretty sure Jordan was staying up most nights plugging away at her attempts to help Garret get his position back without any complications. And perhaps sleep would not come for her at all thanks to the outlandish behavior of a certain detective.

If it had not been for the fact that Woody was in severe condition, Nigel would have gone straight over to the hospital and beat the living daylight out of the man right in front of God and everyone. He had inadvertently found out what had passed between the two when he and Lily had walked in on Jordan in the break room standing with the coffee pot poised half way to her cup, crying with abandon. It wasn't hard to convince her to tell them what had happened. This was two days after the shooting. Jordan had refused to speak of Woody since. 'If he wants me out of his life,' she had said vindictively, 'then I'm out.' Nigel knew better than to believe that Jordan was willing to let go of the situation that easily, but Lily had warned him to let Jordan take things at her own pace before trying to intervene. Well, Jordan had been taking things at her own pace for two weeks now, and that pace consisted of desk work and nothing else. Nigel was just about ready to start some intervention. He didn't care so much about Woody as he did about Jordan needing to have some closure in order to move on in her life. And he had just received a phone call that might just allow that.

Resolving to at least get her to leave the office on business that didn't consist of her crusade for justice, Nigel pushed away from the wall and walked firmly towards her door. He knocked twice and entered before waiting for a response. Jordan stopped what she was doing and looked up at him with some surprise. He strode over to her desk and placed his hands on the edge, leaning over to stare at her.

"Jordan, this is getting ridiculous," he told her. "You have _got_ to get out of this office for a little while and lead some semblance of a life."

Jordan closed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. She had known this was coming from someone eventually. She had been skirting around this very conversation with Nigel for days. Placing her pen down on the desk, she folded her hands and stared right back.

"Nigel, this place _is_ my life. And someone waltzed in here and screwed up what I have come to rely on. Getting Garret back in here is the best thing that I can be doing right now."

"We all want Macy back, Jordan," Nigel tried to pacify her. "But you can't keep dragging yourself through these horrendously long days. Exhausting yourself will not help Dr. Macy any faster. You need to get out for a while to clear your head," he tried to sound resolute and comforting at the same time, hoping to strike some kind of a chord with her.

"Nigel, I can't. Everything and everyone I love…" her voice faltered slightly before she could continue. "It's all here," she finished quietly.

She looked down quickly and Nigel watched her nervously trace the edge of her desk with her fingers. He noticed that her nails looked as though they had been chewed viciously, a habit he knew Jordan turned to when extremely stressed. His heart went out to this woman who was trying desperately to hold the only family she had together, knowing full well that it was falling apart at the seams even as she tried. But this had to stop or she would fall apart along with it. Nigel took a deep breath before proceeding to tell her what he wasn't sure she wanted to hear.

"Woody's been taken out of the ICU," he said matter-of-factly.

Jordan didn't move. At the mention of the detective's name, her heart had raced and she felt heat rise up into her face. It was a combination of love and depression that hit her whenever someone mentioned him now. For she did love him. She had realized that fact the second the voice on her phone had told her he had been shot. Except it was too little too late. His male ego had been shattered by her sudden profession of devotion. He never wanted to see her again.

"The doctors say he has a good chance of walking again, now that they've assessed the situation more thoroughly," Nigel went on, interrupting her thoughts. He knew this was hard for her to hear, but it was something she needed to know. Better to hear it from him than some random cop who came into the morgue to spread the news. He reached into his pocket and took out a slip of paper. Placing it down in front of her, he said, "This is where he was transferred to. No one expects you to go…and deservedly so. Just thought you might like the information."

With that, he turned and walked out of her office, shutting the heavy door behind him. He knew it would be best to tell her the truth flat out and not keep anything from her. Goodness knows she has been lied to enough in her life. Besides, this way it left the decision entirely up to her, something that might make her more inclined to consider making the visit.

Jordan stared at the white slip of paper sitting inches from her hands. Nigel's neat script tripped across it, giving her all the information she needed to know in order to get in touch with Woody. Her mind and her heart had been waging a massive war over whether or not it was a good idea to try to make amends. Her heart ached to convince him that it was a terrible mistake and to have another go at the whole relationship. But then her mind screamed at her that holding a bitter grudge would be far more satisfying. And a lot less painful in the case that he still refused to talk to her. Gently picking up the paper, she ran her finger over the words, hoping that maybe some definitive feeling would overwhelm her to help her decide one way or the other. Feeling nothing besides the smooth paper, Jordan finally decided that taking a walk outside might help her clear her mind. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

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The early summer sun beat down onto the city of Boston and warmed the streets. Already, the shade from the large, lush trees was a blessing to those making their way down the sidewalks. A fair amount of people bustled down the street around Jordan, not quite the five o'clock rush, but busy none the less. She hardly paid them any heed and walked rather slowly compared to the others. She carried the paper Nigel had given her in her hand, still unsure of what to do with herself. She had been walking for almost a half an hour, making her way in circles through some of Boston's more popular areas. Her mind was starting to whirl with all that had occurred to her recently. Garret leaving the morgue had reminded her of her father abandoning her. And then she remembered that both had lied to her. She had trusted them as one can only trust a father, and they had betrayed her in the worst ways possible. Preaching one way of life while living with the knowledge that they had broken every rule ever laid down for her. Telling her to act more sensibly and do her job and only her job. Meanwhile, they crossed lines she had never dreamed of crossing.

The pain of their betrayal was beginning to eat away at her soul. She was starting to think that there was no one in this world whom she could fully trust to tell her the truth. No, that wasn't true. She could always count on Woody to tell her the truth. Even if the truth was that he wanted nothing to do with her any more. Words could not express the sick feeling in her body when he had told her to get out. A large part of her died that day. Another part died as she watched Garret walk out the door. _I let Devan die_, she thought suddenly. It was her fault. She never did enough to help Peter either. Had she pushed them all away? Pushed them to their destruction? Why were people always leaving her? She never professed to be a low maintenance person to have a relationship with, but she felt strongly that she did nothing to warrant being abandoned as many times as she had. Told to leave things alone. Just do her job. Get out. Now.

Tears started to fill Jordan's eyes as she walked. It didn't occur to her that it might look odd for other people to see her halting along with tears streaming down her face. Fortunately, she couldn't really see them anymore. Cars whizzing by seemed to blur in her vision. The horns and engines sounded distant, echoing in her mind as strange, guttural sounds. She became very aware of the paper in her hand. She felt warmth from it. Warmth from Woody. She clutched it desperately to her chest. Perhaps if she held it close enough, she could feel him once more. How wonderful it would be to have him back again. Have her father back. Have Garret. Have her soul back. She suddenly felt her stomach tightening, clenching inside of her. Her rib cage felt too small to allow for her lungs. She struggled to keep her breathing under control. _God, what is happening to me?_ Little silver stars started to burst in her already obscured vision. Panicking now, Jordan opened her mouth to call out, but no sound would come. An ear splitting bang just to her left overwhelmed her nervous system and she only had time for one thought before the world went white: _Woody's been shot_.

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Dr. Mark Schwartz quickened his pace slightly to keep up with the woman beside him. When Jordan had walked into the hospital, she had been clinging to that piece of paper like it was her very life. It was simple enough to find the room she was looking for. The ward was common enough that anyone in the hospital could have taken her without trouble. However, she had insisted that he take her there himself. Perhaps it was because he was the first person she had encountered there and she felt as though she needed to trust him and only him. It was the desperate look in her eyes that had allowed him to rationalize leaving his post at the ER for twenty minutes to escort her himself. Looking at the numbers on the wall, he gently placed his hand at her elbow and guided her around the corner, bringing her to a stop in front of number 413. He looked at her, standing there silently as though not quite sure what to do next.

"Would you like to go in now?" he asked, smiling to encourage her. Jordan simply nodded without looking back. Dr. Schwartz softly opened the door to the recovery room and stepped just inside, leaving room for Jordan to follow. He noted the young man lying dejectedly in the hospital bed, holding an entertainment magazine in front of glazed eyes. He glanced quickly at the patient chart to see the young man's name. "Mr. Hoyt," Dr, Schwartz said, "There's someone here who needs to see you."

Woody glanced up at the unfamiliar doctor standing inside of his room. None of his precinct buddies came to see him until after their shifts ended since he had gotten out of the woods. Cal wouldn't have the balls to visit now. He didn't really want to think of whom it was who was waiting on the other side of the doorframe. And then in she walked. With a look of sheer terror on her face, Jordan Cavanaugh inched her way into the room. He watched her take in the surroundings and look at him. He furrowed his brow. She had the oddest expression on her face. His confusion seemed to overrule any anger he felt towards her at the moment.

Jordan took in the small room, occupied only by one patient. It was stark and white. It felt cold. There was a small vase with flowers on the bedside table that someone brought in. Next to the bed were both a walker and a wheelchair. Finally, she let her gaze rest on the man lying in the hospital bed. For a moment, the two just stared at each other. When he didn't say anything, she started to feel a familiar panic creep into her. But then he spoke to her.

"Jordan," he said flatly. "What are you doing here? Who told you I was here?"

Relief flooded through Jordan's mind. He spoke to her. He actually opened his mouth and spoke to her, spoke her name. She felt tears well up in her eyes from happiness.

"You know me," she said, her voice full of emotion.

Woody was taken aback. _I know her?_ he thought. What on earth kind of a thing is that to say? "Of course I know you. I'm not so angry at you that I've forgotten all about you…believe me, I haven't." He let some disdain drop into his voice, hoping to let her know that he wasn't entirely pleased to see her. He saw the fear creep back into her face.

"I wish I knew what you're talking about," she said in a quavering voice. At first he thought she was messing with him. But then he looked into her eyes and saw a terror which had never been there before. He stared at her in shock as she continued through her tears. "I really wish I knew. Because…I have no idea who you are…"


	2. Strangers

Thanks for the reviews, guys! Now I'm all giddy about this story…even though it's sorta dark right now. ButIpromise! – it won't all be heart wrenching…eventually. Also, I hope this chapter clears up any confusion about the first one…it was supposed to be kinda fuzzy, helps with the suspense. Try reading Waiting For Godot, then you'll really know what confusion is. So yeah, on to the catch-up chapter! Ciao!

Woody stared at Dr. Schwartz, completely dumbfounded by what he was hearing. Jordan had been ushered out of the room fairly fast as she was nearing a panic attack and taken into a nearby room to calm down and be treated. Deep in his gut, Woody had wanted to go with her to sit by her side, hold her hand and tell her everything would be all right. But at this point it would have made no difference if the person holding her hand was him or a stranger. Because he _was _a stranger to her. All he had the power to do at the moment was inform the staff of who to call, that since she had no immediate family near the area to contact Dr. Nigel Townsend or Lily Lebowski. After that, Dr. Schwartz explained that Jordan had been brought into the ER by a woman who had witnessed Jordan collapse to her knees in the middle of the sidewalk. Apparently, all Jordan was able to tell this woman was her name, and that it was imperative that she get to the hospital. Using the information on the paper as a guide, the woman brought Jordan to the ER of the hospital knowing that Jordan was in need of help. Dr. Schwartz had seen her, but basically gave up trying to admit her when, after twenty minutes in the exam, Jordan tried to set off in search of the mystery room herself. And now, here they were.

"So she knows who she is?" Woody asked, still not quite grasping what was happening.

"She has the basic information about her life," Dr. Schwartz nodded. "Not really anything more than you would find in a file about her. What she seams to have forgotten is people: names, faces, past histories, that sort of thing."

Woody brought his hands to his forehead and slid them along to his temples, trying to make his mind focus. When Jordan had walked out of his hospital room two weeks ago, he had had every intention of permanently removing her from his life. He never wanted anything to do with her again; not her teasing, not her mood swings, not her jealous streaks, not her propensity for law breaking…not a damn thing. And now, all of sudden, here was a Jordan who was lost, completely stripped of all the things that made her who she was. It scared him that she knew nothing of the people in her life. How on earth could she survive in this world without that past? As much as he wanted to make her know he was pissed off at her, he had certainly never wished this upon Jordan. What a way for her to find a way back to him. Curse his stupid chivalrous heart for hurting for her.

"Is this common?" he asked, then added quickly, "I mean, has this ever happened before? Will she be able to recover?"

"Memory loss like this is less common than the typical amnesia that people think of. It's called Retrograde Amnesia. What's happened to her is that the right temporal lobe, the part of her brain that stores her personal history, has selectively shut off certain memories. As far as we can tell, there was no physical trauma that caused it. What often happens is that a person goes through severe emotional trauma, and in a coping mechanism the brain severs connections to those memories in an attempt to avoid an overload," Dr. Schwartz explained. "Stranger things have happened to people in these situations – we had a man in here once that inexplicably started talking with a British accent. Others become mute, or even lose their hearing. You mostly see things like this in war vets." He paused and looked cautiously at Woody. "Would you be in a position to give some insight as to what kind of trauma might have caused this?"

Woody laughed bitterly. He had more insight than he could ever say. It was just his luck that it would be left to him to fill in her past. "How much time do you have?" he questioned sarcastically. Dr. Schwartz gave a sad smile, knowing the kinds of things that had to happen to cause memory loss of this sort. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, and then settled himself into the chair beside the bed.

Woody still couldn't believe what he was happening. Never in his life had he ever had to deal with something like this. He turned his head to look out the window, letting out a frustrated sigh. Would things ever slow down for them? When would they be able to just live life without encountering disaster every other day? Woody furrowed his brow. Dr. Schwartz had left one question unanswered.

"Is she going to be ok?" he asked pointedly. When he was not answered right away, he looked over at the doctor with concern. Dr. Schwartz seemed to be weighing his answer carefully, which Woody took as a bad sign.

"Well," Dr. Schwartz started, "It's hard to tell at this point. It varies from patient to patient. There's no physical trauma to help us measure the damage. The best thing for her right now is to be surrounded by familiar things: friends, family, whatever she needs to bring her back. And you can help that process greatly if you can inform us of where she's coming from." He stopped then, pen at the ready and looking expectantly at Woody.

For the first time, Woody felt uncomfortable about the circumstances. Jordan was such a private person. She would have killed him if she knew what he was being forced to do. She would hate him. _Hell, she already hates me_, he thought. _And I'm supposed to be hating her right now_. As much as he wanted to feed his anger for her, he found a different feeling welling up inside of him, a feeling he really did not want to accept. He pitied her. He felt downright sorry for her. It was the very reason he had shut her out of his life, and now that's all he could feel for her. Now he had to make one of the most difficult decisions in his life. How much would he have to reveal about her in order to help her recovery? How much would he have to betray her?


	3. NextOfKin

Hello everyone! Sorry this story is kinda slow-going right now. I have finals looming in front of me starting this week, so hopefully once that is out of the way I can focus my creative energy into writing. In the meantime, I will appreciate any feedback you would like to toss my way!

Lily had to stop herself from running as she sped down the hall towards autopsy two. Wringing her hands, she glanced around to make sure Slocum was nowhere in sight. God, she hated that man. Seeing that the coast was clear for the moment, she burst into the autopsy room and dashed towards Nigel and Bug. Having been caught in the middle of the autopsy, the two froze mid-dissection as she tried to get her story out as quickly as possible.

"The hospital just called, Jordan was brought into the ER about forty five minutes ago and they think she has some kind of memory loss," she said hurriedly.

"What?" Nigel said in disbelief. He immediately put down his equipment and walked over to Lily. "Is she ok, did she get hurt?"

"She's fine, other than the fact that she doesn't remember anyone," Lily told them. "She doesn't have a clue who she knows in this world, she can't remember any of us."

"How did they know to contact us if she can't remember us?" Bug questioned. Lily hesitated and shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"Well, that's the interesting part," she started. "Oddly enough, Nigel, your little plan led her straight to Woody. She ended up in the same hospital, and Woody's been designated official caretaker to Jordan…for the time being." She added this last part very pointedly, almost as a threat to the absentee detective.

Nigel ran his hands through his black hair, letting out a sigh as he processed the information. "Ok," he said, "ok, we need to get over there, right now."

"Shouldn't we try calling Dr. Macy? I mean, I think he would want to know about this," Bug interjected.

"Uh, no time guys," Lily said worriedly as she looked beyond the two men. Nigel and Bug followed her gaze through the window to see Slocum approaching the autopsy room. Lily snapped into action and started pushing them towards the opposite door. "Go go go, right now."

Nigel and Bug barely had time to protest as they quickly shed their gear before being shoved out the door. The three walked determinedly towards the elevator, but they heard the telltale footsteps hurrying along behind them.

"Uh, excuse me Miss Lebowski," Slocum's voice crooned sarcastically at their backs. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Family emergency," she answered quickly as they stepped into the elevator.

"Who's family?"

"Not yours!" Lily snapped as she slammed her palm against the "close door" button inside the elevator and watched satisfactorily as they shut in Slocum's red face.

The ride to the hospital seemed to take much longer than it should have. Bug tried in vain to call Garret on his cell. After what must have been the twentieth attempt, and still only reaching the answering machine, he finally shut his phone and swore in frustration. They would just have to let him know some other way.

When they reached the hospital, they quickly located the floor that Jordan was on. Lily rushed to the nurses' station with Bug and Nigel close on her heels.

"I'm looking for Jordan Cavanaugh, she's under the care of a Dr. Schwartz," she said as she leaned onto the counter towards the nurse working at the computer.

"Dr. Schwartz is right behind you, miss, he can help you," the nurse said gently as she pointed behind the group.

The three turned at once towards the doctor and simultaneously began asking questions. Dr Schwartz calmed them down as he led them towards where Jordan was, explaining all he had assessed of Jordan's condition. When he reached the part about having asked for Woody's assistance in gathering a history for her, they all grew somber.

"That idiot better not have done anything he'll regret," Nigel said darkly. Dr. Schwartz looked at them slightly surprised.

"I have Detective Hoyt listed as Jordan's emergency contact and caretaker for situations like this on her medical files," he informed them. "Is there some reason he should be considered incapable of fulfilling these roles?"

Lily sighed sadly. "Not really," she said. "I guess you could say there's been some tension recently."

They had reached Jordan's room, and it suddenly seemed like the weight of the situation had tripled the second they stepped in front of the door. They had been given instructions on how to approach her and things to say to make the meeting easier. But that advice did not erase the fact that their best friend was struggling to makes sense of her life, completely cut off from her memories. They opened the door and stepped cautiously into the room to see Jordan sitting on the bed, her feet tucked up and her arms wrapped around her knees. At the sound of the door, she turned her head to look at the three people walking into her room. They all seemed very anxious. Lily was the first to speak.

"Hey Jordan," she said softly, smiling in relief that Jordan was truly not harmed in any physical way. "I'm Lily. This is Nigel and Bug. We work with you at the morgue."

Jordan smiled back and swung her legs over the side of the bed so that she was facing them. "I remember the morgue," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't remember you, though. I'm sorry."

Lily walked over to her quickly and sat down beside her. "You don't have to apologize for anything, Jordan," she reassured her as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "This is all going to take time, and we're all going to be here for you."

"That's right," Bug added, walking over with Nigel to join them. "You've been there for us in some tough times. And we plan on being there for you."

Jordan felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to the three of them. Even though she had been reassured that there were people in her life who would help her, she couldn't help but feel that somehow she would be left alone to deal with this. The time between her encounter with the detective and the arrival of her co-workers was filled with fear – fear that she would never remember anyone, fear that these purported friends would shy away from her once they realized what a burden she was going to be. Because Jordan knew this would be a burden to whoever ended up stuck with her. Maybe they would say that they would be there for her, but Jordan was not so out of it that she didn't know the amount of maintenance she was going to require. Despite the black areas in her mind, she still retained her medical knowledge. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. Dr. Schwartz stepped into the room.

"How's everybody doing in here?" he asked.

"Fine," Jordan answered for all of them.

"Good," he said. "I need to ask all of you to follow me, please. There are some matters we need to discuss and get taken care of."

He led them down the hall and back to Woody's room. When he opened the door, Woody felt his heart quicken, thinking something had happened to Jordan. However, he felt himself grow slightly smaller as Jordan herself entered followed by Lily, Nigel, and Bug. If he had thought his life was out of danger, he certainly questioned his safety once the three of them walked in. He wasn't stupid; he knew Jordan had probably told them all what happened. The way they were glaring at him didn't do anything to ease his suspicions.

"Ok folks, here's the reason we're all gathered here," Dr. Schwartz explained. "Basically, we would like to keep you overnight, Jordan, for a bit of observation. Just to make sure we haven't missed anything. After we release you, though, it's going to be important that someone stay with you to make sure that you're doing ok. Now, according to the records, that responsibility would go to Detective Hoyt."

Woody cringed a little, knowing that this probably wasn't making other people in the room very happy. He glanced up at Jordan. She seemed to still be ignorant of anything regarding their relationship.

"Isn't that going to be a little impossible?" Jordan asked with a slight smirk. "I mean, for obvious reasons…"

Nigel repressed a laugh. He was glad to see that Jordan had not lost her sarcasm. If she had, he would have really had reason to worry about her. Also, it didn't hurt that her ability to be blunt shed light upon the fact that Woody was not able to look after her. That was a plus in Nigel's book. He started to feel slightly less amused when Dr. Schwartz went on.

"Well…the thing is, Detective Hoyt is scheduled to be released tomorrow. He will also need someone to attend to him at home. And according to _his_ records, the next-of-kin is Jordan."

A heavy silence fell over the room as the implications of all this settled into everyone's minds. Bug looked shocked, Nigel seemed to be thinking of ways to save Jordan, and Lily looked furious. Only Jordan appeared to be taking this well. _Well, that's ironic_, Woody thought. When no one said anything for several moments, Dr. Schwartz spoke up again.

"I have already spoken with Woody, and he has agreed to this arrangement. What needs to be decided is if it will be in the best interest of everyone involved to allow things to pan out according to what we have in writing. Or if there is some reason that it should be altered," he said this to Nigel, Lily, and Bug, all of whom were trying to figure out what to say.

On the one hand, they were ready to kill Woody for shutting Jordan down right when she was at her most vulnerable. On the other hand, Woody had already proved that he was willing to help Jordan and allow her back into his life, even if it was only briefly. None of them wanted Jordan to suffer through losing Woody, and his willing help seemed like a glimmer of hope.

"Well it seems to me," Jordan spoke up, "that it would make more sense to just go by the written records. I'm sure there's a reason for the hesitation," she added quickly when she saw her co-workers begin to protest, "and hopefully that will be explained to me soon, at the right time. But…look, this is going to be terrifying for me no matter what, all right? Honestly, I think it will help if I have something to do to keep me distracted. And I think helping Woody might work out for the best. Otherwise…I would just feel like I was in the way."

"Are you sure about this Jordan?" Nigel asked after a moment.

Jordan simply nodded. There seemed to be a collective recuperation in the room as the tension of the decision was lifted. Woody thought that he was safe from any retaliation. Until he noticed Lily staring at him, her eyes narrowed and cold. He swallowed hard, realizing that his life might indeed still be in jeopardy.

"Could I have a moment alone with Detective Hoyt, please?" Lily asked suddenly.

It came as a surprise to everyone, most of all Woody. If anyone would have questioned this whole thing, he figured it would have been Nigel. In fact, he was anticipating a huge fight there. Lily was the last person he expected to attack him. After everyone had left to room, Lily walked closer to the bed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You have a lot of nerve sitting there pretending nothing happened," she said in a low voice.

"Lily, I'm not pretending that what passed between me and Jordan never happened," he defended himself. "I'm just trying not to give her a reason to shut off from us completely."

"You think that if you keep it from her, then she'll never remember and you can have an easier time of wooing her back into your arms," Lily accused him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Woody asked with disbelief. "Look, I swear, I'll tell her eventually, but she has to be eased back into her life."

"Yeah, and it doesn't hurt that with her not knowing, she's a lot more willing to come and play nurse at your apartment," she said venomously. Woody felt his blood boil under his skin.

"I have _never_ taken advantage of Jordan in that way and you know it," he growled. "And if you think I'm trying to do this just for my own pleasure, then that is just sick."

"All I know Woody," Lily hissed, stepping closer to him, "is that two weeks ago you destroyed Jordan in a way that I'm not sure even you realize. And now all of a sudden you're ready to be her savior. Things don't add up somewhere. I'm warning you now – if you do _anything_ to hurt her while she's with you, you may well find yourself visiting the morgue in a body bag."


	4. Lost in a Fog

**Ok y'all, here we go with the much anticipated update in celebration of the school year being over. Sorry it took soooo long…eek! Busy busy life. As always, questions, comments, and criticisms are welcome.**

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Jordan rubbed at her eyes as she sat in her SUV waiting for the light to turn green. She had not slept well at all in the hospital. Dreams where she was lost in a thick fog took control of her mind for most of the night. Strange voices always called out to her in far away, silvery wisps. She kept thinking that she was getting closer to finding the person who was calling to her, but when she would turn to see them there was nothing but the grey mist all around her. When she had woken in the morning, it felt like she had run a marathon. And then her problems started all over again. She could remember why she was in the hospital, and that she was going to go home as soon as they had checked her out again. However, she had to be reintroduced to Woody for a second time. It had taken nearly an hour before she could recall the events of the previous evening and the arrangements that had been made. Even though the doctors told her this kind of thing happened to amnesia patients, it was still frustrating and upsetting. 

She had felt immensely guilty about forgetting who Woody was – someone they told her was an old friend, a close friend. Jordan decided that she would make every effort not to forget again. For one thing, it was embarrassing and she did not like being that insecure. For another, she had noted the look in his eyes when it was clear she did not know him. His face fell ever so slightly and she saw the pity enter his eyes. His was one of those faces that did not hide much. He wore his emotions right there for everyone to see. Or maybe he was afraid. After all, she was supposed to be taking care of him and she couldn't even remember who he was after a miserable night's sleep. If it was fear, he did a good job of convincing her things would be okay once they got out of the hospital.

Woody was certainly brave, Jordan had assessed that much. The doctors told her he had been shot, though they didn't reveal any specifics. His surgery had gone extremely well, and it was only a matter of getting used to his legs again. Jordan felt somehow proud when she watched him stand up and walk, however gingerly, to his wheelchair. It was confusing to feel these bursts of emotion for someone and not knowing why she had reason to feel that way. She could only assume that they were the right things to feel.

"You ok?"

Woody's voice brought her back to reality. She took her hands away from her eyes and put them back on the steering wheel.

"Yeah," she replied, giving him a small smile. "Just tired."

Woody looked over at her and noted the dark circles under her eyes. And yet, she still had this wide eyed look of uncertainty, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Sleeping in a hospital can wear on you," he said without emotion. The light finally turned green and Jordan turned her gaze back to the road as she pressed on the gas.

"How long were you in there?" she asked.

"You make it sound like a prison sentence," Woody deadpanned, and he was rewarded with a smirk from her. "Two weeks," he added with a sigh, "But it may as well've been months."

Jordan grimaced in empathy. She let silence settle for a few moments as she drove along before asking more. Tightening her grip on the wheel, she asked, "So what happened?"

Woody looked at her, a little surprised. He didn't know how much to tell her this soon in the game. He doubted that she would be able to handle the emotional side of the story. Better play it safe and keep to the facts.

"We were looking for a sniper," he began mechanically, as though he had told this story a million times in the last two weeks. "He was…after cops. They got their hands on Kevlar penetrating ammunition. We finally got them into a showdown, and nabbed one of the kids, but…" his voice started to get heavy when he began to recall the events. Somehow, it became more than just a recitation of facts when he told Jordan.

She glanced over at him, concerned. "You don't have to…"

"It's ok," he said firmly. "Long story short, we chased the second kid into this building, and I tried to play the hero by talking him out of what he was doing." He stopped, his jaw set solidly. Jordan could tell he was beating himself up inside for whatever it was he had done that day. After nearly a minute, he finished quietly. "I guess I'm not as good at that as I thought."

Jordan slowed the car to a stop and reached out hesitantly, placing her hand gently on his arm. She could not even begin to imagine what he had been through. The terror he must have felt while he stared down the barrel of an empty gun. She wished she knew how to comfort him, but she was still so unsure of how to be with him.

"You tried, Woody," she said softly. "You did the best you could, no one could have asked for more. Some people just can't be saved, no matter how hard you try."

_You have no idea_, he thought bitterly. He felt his eyes start to well up, and in an effort to hide his emotions he leaned his face into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Almost immediately he regretted this move. He felt Jordan put her hand comfortingly on his back, soothing away the tension he had built up. For a moment, he felt himself slipping back into old habits, enjoying her touch more than he should. Then he realized that this woman sitting next to him wasn't the old Jordan. She had no idea what she was doing, no idea how close this gesture was to the teasing he had endured before. Once the real Jordan came back to him, she would pull away just as she had done a million times before.

Woody sat up abruptly and ran his hands through his hair, agitated. Jordan swiftly pulled her hand back, somewhat embarrassed. She felt like she had crossed a line somewhere. Not sure what to do, she opened her mouth to apologize but was cut off by him.

"You got here without directions?" he asked with surprise.

Jordan leaned down a bit and looked up towards her apartment through the windshield.

"Yeah. I knew exactly where it was. Pretty weird, huh?" She was glad to have seemed to avoid an awkward moment with him, for the time being. After a moment of silence she glanced at his face, still turned slightly away from her. She saw a great deal of pain in those blue eyes, far more than he probably ever intended to let show. She furrowed her brow a little. What was he hiding behind those eyes? "Come on, detective, let's get you settled."

Walking into her apartment was a very strange experience. It was like stepping into a painting; one she had seen a thousand times and knew by heart. She knew precisely how it was supposed to look. There were simply no emotions attached to anything she saw. She knew there were certain objects she liked more than others, but she had no idea why. Jordan was also acutely aware of Woody watching her as they walked through the door, waiting for any sign of recognition in her face. She put the two suitcases of Woody's down that she had carried up and made her way to the middle of the room. Turning a circle, she put her hands in her pockets and took everything in. She stopped when she faced him again and shrugged sheepishly.

"I know it," she said. "But it feels like…a picture. Like a blueprint that was programmed into my mind. God, I sound like a robot!" She said it with a laugh, but Woody could see she was upset. He shifted uneasily against his walking canes, debating what to say. As usual, Jordan recovered her composure first. "Well. Are you sure you're up to staying with me? I might go nuts on you, ya know."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Woody said with a small smile as he made his way to couch. "I told you before, Jo, if I can make it for two weeks in a hospital, I can spend a little time in someone else's place. Besides, you need to be here right now." He stopped when he noticed a smile play across her lips. "What?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said wistfully. "When you called me Jo, I just…it felt familiar."

When she looked at him then, Woody saw how grateful she was that he was there. He had the distinct impression that she was beginning to feel safe around him. Having lost every relationship she had ever known, she was laying all her trust in him. Or had she always trusted him fully, and it was only now that she was able to show it? It frightened him not for the first time that the Jordan he was with was completely stripped of her defenses. It was the first time she had ever had to rely on him so earnestly. He decided shutting her out was not an option this time around.

"Hey, you must still be pretty exhausted from all this," Jordan spoke suddenly, breaking her gaze away. She tugged absently at her jacket edges as she decided to move the suitcases to her room. "D'you want to rest for a while? I'll get everything in my room all straightened out."

"Whoa, Jordan," Woody did his best to hurry after her as she tried to scuttle out of the room. _Well, almost no defenses_, he conceded to himself. "First of all, I just spent two weeks lying in a hospital bed, when I wasn't in physical therapy. The last thing I want to do is lie down. Second, you are not giving up your room."

"Woody, you can take my room. There is no way I am letting you sleep anywhere else in your condition."

"I'm warnin' you Jordan, if you start treatin' me special, I will give you a good kick in the rear, I don't care what condition I'm in," Woody said firmly, his down home accent slipping into his words as he defended himself against her pity. The moment he finished, he realized he had probably been too confrontational, given that she could not remember the event that he was getting upset about. He should have known better than to think she would act wounded.

"Listen farm boy," she said as she dropped the suitcases, "you aren't out of the woods yet, but don't you think I'm giving you any special treatment beyond what is medically required. You're going to have to grow up and realize that you – need – help right now. Unless you'd like to fend for yourself. I don't know about you, but I would prefer the help. It's not a pity party yet, Hoyt." Jordan grew quiet and looked as though she had half shocked herself with the words. She crossed her arms self consciously over her chest. As an afterthought, she added, "Besides, the couch is a hide-a-bed. I'll be fine."

Inside, she felt like she had just crashed through a waterfall. When Woody had snapped at her, she suddenly felt as though her mind had been pushed into chaos. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even think twice about them. Here she was, yelling at a complete stranger, practically, and these emotions and thoughts just burst forth of their own right. And the second she finished, she was on the other side of the waterfall looking back and thinking, 'What was that?' But what worried her most was the way Woody was looking at her. She must have said something that rang true. He was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. _Great, I totally pissed him off_.

Then he did something she was not expecting. He leaned his canes against the wall and walked slowly towards her, stopping less than a foot away. Gently, he brought his hands up and placed them on the sides of her face, looking intently into her eyes. She felt frozen under his gaze, finding herself once again unsure of her place in his world.

"You're still in there, aren't you?" he whispered.

Jordan was taken aback. It dawned on her that she had neglected to see that not everyone would feel it was her in this body. She still felt like herself, just altered. It hadn't even occurred to her that she would appear so incredibly different to those around her. Almost like a whole other person. Woody was afraid he had lost the Jordan he knew forever. And it scared Jordan to think that she might have lost herself. Not wanting to worry him with her fears, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Of course I'm still here," she reassured him. "Just on a little soul searching at the moment."

"I just didn't realize things would come to your mind that quickly," he explained as he dropped his hands to her arms. At the blank stare she gave him, it clicked that she had no idea what she said to him had meant anything at all. "You called me farm boy. You used to call me that all the time when we first started working together." Woody crossed his arms and gave her an amused look. "Somehow you got it into your head that because I was from Wisconsin, I was automatically raised in a barn."

"Hm," Jordan's lips quirked in a thoughtful smile. "Interesting. I might just have to rely on that in case I forget your name again."

"Oh please don't," Woody groaned. "I finally just got you to stop using that name."

"We'll see," Jordan laughed, feeling comfortable for once that day. She sighed and surveyed the room again. "Well, farm boy, it seems we have three options for this evening. One: crash early, two: explain my life to me, which I am so not in the mood for, by the way, or three: make it movie night."

"After two weeks of nothing but bed rest and emotional turmoil, I gotta tell ya, I'm in the mood for a movie."

"Movie it is then."

"What've you got?" Woody asked as he walked gingerly to the couch.

"I do happen to remember that I own the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy…that, I _am_ going to need explained."

"You…are an angel of mercy."

* * *

Jordan fell into bed that night feeling much better, if not totally reassured about her condition. The world still felt empty to her, but her evening with Woody had given her hope that she would recover soon. Her easy rapport with him convinced her that she could look forward to the memories that would return. She hoped they would be happy. Her co-workers' objections still lingered in her mind. _On the bright side_, she thought, _you can remember that you have co-workers._

Events of the day filled her mind as she drifted off to sleep. It wasn't long before she found herself lost in the fog once again. Voices called out to her, seemingly just out of reach. One voice began to rise above the others, calling her name. She turned about, trying to find the edge of the mist. Suddenly, the fog grew heavier and heavier, and seconds later she was surrounded by water. Jordan thrashed, not knowing which way was up. Her lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of the sun pouring into the water. Hurtling her way towards it, she felt almost insanely desirous of air. Just before she broke the surface, a vision appeared before her: a woman lying dead, her blood pooling around her. Jordan recoiled in shock, her lungs bursting inside of her.

Jordan flew up in bed, gasping for breath. She clutched the sheets at her sides and felt the cold sweat slipping down her skin. After she had regained control of her breathing, she lifted a shaking hand to her brow to brush away the hair clinging to her forehead.

"Ok…ok," she whispered to herself. "What did they say to do? Recite, umm, recite names." She placed her hand on her chest, willing her heart to stop racing, willing the feeling of desolation to leave. "Ok…Nigel, Lily, Bug…shit…farm boy – _Woody_…oh, God, please help me."


	5. Fighting Pride

**One note of credit to make on this here chapter. The very last part of it was inspired by _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_. I didn't even realize I had been inspired until after I reread it and was like, 'Hey, that's familiar.' Yup. That's all. Feedback is always a happy part of my day ;) hint hint. Ciao!**

Woody was lying awake, staring at the ceiling of Jordan's bedroom, when he heard her start to struggle against a dream. The cramps that seized his leg muscles at night kept him up for the majority of the dark hours. He sat up on his elbows and listened carefully to her movements, trying to decide if he should get up and wake her. When he heard her sharp intake of breath and the thrashing stopped, he knew she had woken on her own. His first thought was that he might as well try to get some sleep, now that she was awake and away from whatever it was that haunted her dreams. But he heard her start to mutter to herself, and paused to be sure that she was all right. It was when she uttered a plea for help, her voice tinged with tears, that he suddenly ached to go to her.

Not even bothering with a light, he slipped out of the bed and found one of his canes. Walking into the living room, he caught sight of her sitting on the windowsill, a quilt wrapped tightly around her shoulders. One look at her forlorn face and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her until she was happy again. But he knew he couldn't for several reasons, the least of which being that it would probably frighten her more than she already was. If only she would hate him, or treat him in the flippant fashion that she always did when they had a tiff about their relationship, he would have an easier time pushing away his resurfacing feelings for her. As it was, Jordan's amnesia was only encouraging them. And Woody knew that was dangerous for both of them.

Struggling to repress any emotions but concern, he joined her on the sill, following her gaze to the city outside. They sat in silence for several minutes, searching for peace in the night. Finally, Woody looked at her, hoping that some of the sadness had left her face. Jordan never failed him in her ability to control her emotions when she wanted to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he murmured.

Jordan inhaled slowly and sighed, thinking hard about her dream. She bit her bottom lip and then looked up to meet his eyes.

"Not too much different than the night before," she told him. He looked as though he didn't believe her at all. Jordan rolled her eyes slightly before going on. "I was drowning. I couldn't find the surface of the water. And when I did, I saw a woman lying dead in her own blood."

"Are you ok?" he pressed her, worried that she was taking the dream too lightly. The last thing he needed was for her to start denying anything that her mind was telling her. Jordan hesitated before answering him.

"I didn't make it to the surface, Woody. I just…didn't make it," she recalled quietly. Her warm amber eyes grew dark as she fought what she didn't want to know. "The woman…I don't know how I know this, but…it was my mother."

Woody's jaw dropped a bit before he could recover from his surprise. Jordan's words hung heavy in the air. He watched her face drop in hurt and anger, taking his silence for confirmation of the truth. She looked down at her hands holding the quilt wrapped around her, holding her together.

"How did she die?"

Her voice was so soft Woody was barely able to understand her. He swallowed hard. He hadn't anticipated having to deal with one of the most traumatic events of her life so soon. Deciding that the truth was a far better path to take with Jordan, he steeled himself for her reaction.

"She was killed. When you were ten," he said with empathy.

"What I saw in my dream…did I see her when it happened?" her voice faltered just a little when she asked.

"I'm not really sure what you saw," Woody confessed. "You never really liked to talk about it."

"I guess that makes sense," Jordan muttered. She was quiet for a while, and Woody hoped that he wouldn't have to answer any more questions about her mother's murder tonight. Not only was it hurting her, but it was dredging up painful memories about his own parents. She appeared to be deep in thought about it, though, and he suspected that the murder would consume her mind now. Just as it always had. "What about my father?"

Woody's heart jumped and his eyes shot up to meet hers. "What about him?" he asked too quickly.

His reaction surprised Jordan and she immediately grew worried that things were only going to get worse from here on out. But what on earth could be worse than her mother being killed? As much as she wanted to regain her memory, she did not look forward to images of her mother lying dead. And yet, a desperate need to know these things tugged at her.

"I – well is he alive?" she inquired.

"Yes, he is," Woody informed her. "He's just…on a sort of a sabbatical right now." Woody sighed, trying to think of how to tell her about her father without completely breaking her heart. "He made some enemies back in his day as a cop, and it was reason enough for him to take a leave of absence last year."

Woody held his breath, praying that the conversation would stop there. He had no idea how to make either story sound like it wasn't a total disgrace if she kept asking questions. No wonder she didn't like to talk about her personal life much. It was hard enough explaining it to her now. Jordan lowered her head into her hand and closed her eyes, taking in what Woody had told her. She could tell he wasn't revealing everything to her, but she wasn't sure she was entirely frustrated by that. Her burning desire to know everything was fighting a part of her that just simply did not want to remember.

"I didn't even think about them," she confided. Woody looked at her, confused. "When I was in the hospital; I didn't even think once about a family that might be concerned. When they listed you as my next of kin, I didn't even question it. How could I not even think about that? Are the memories that terrible, Woody?" Her voice began to reach a desperate tone.

"Jordan, you've been through some tough things in your life," Woody comforted her as he subconsciously slipped his hand over hers and held it tightly. "But in all that, you and your dad stuck by each other as much as you could. You're lucky to have a father who is around when he can be, and who loves you no matter what."

"If that's true, then why is my mind refusing to let those memories in?" she demanded. In frustration, she tore her gaze away from him and let her forehead fall against the cool glass of the window as she let out a loud breath.

"I don't know, Jordan," Woody said, defeated. "I don't know. But you have memories in there of most of your adult life with a parent who stands behind you. That's more than a lot of people can say."

Jordan felt her face start to heat up in anger and embarrassment. She realized then that she had been behaving selfishly. Woody had been trying to encourage her, and from what she could tell he came close to revealing that she was more fortunate than he was. How, she didn't know. But her pride wouldn't let her find out now, and all she could do was keep her gaze frozen away from him, staring stoically out the window.

When Jordan didn't react to his words, Woody let go of her hand and took hold of his cane again. He felt more disappointed than anything else. Maybe he should have told her more. Maybe she was frustrated because he was holding back details. But if she got this upset over the little she had found out, then maybe it was better to take things slowly. In any case, they were done for tonight. He didn't have the heart or the energy to continue. Leaning on his cane, he stood up and started walking towards her room. He had only gone three steps when his legs suddenly failed him and buckled. Woody let go of his cane and flung out his hands to brace his fall. Jordan's head whipped around just in time to see him crumple to the floor, landing on his knees and then listing off to one side.

"Damn it!" he shouted, striking a fist against the floor. He hadn't fallen hard, but the blow to his ego hurt a great deal worse.

"Woody, are you all right?" Jordan shot off the windowsill and rushed to his side. She grabbed his cane and knelt down beside him. "What happened? Does anything feel broken?"

"I'm fine," Woody insisted, doing everything he could to avoid her attempts at assistance.

"Let me help you up."

"_No!_"

"Woody, at least let me get your crutch -"

"It's not a 'crutch!'" he yelled at her. "And I don't need you!"

Jordan froze at his side, momentarily frightened by his temper. She stood up and stared down at him, feeling a surge of anger, her gaze cold as stone. She watched him sit there, his chest heaving in irritation. He kept his face turned down, not wanting to look at her.

"Maybe you don't," Jordan said, her voice cold and low. "But I need you."

She dropped the cane and stalked back to her bed, listening to it clatter to the floor.


	6. Getting Over It

**Sorry this is kinda short, but I'm out of town this weekend for a wedding and without a computer, and I wanted to leave you with something. **

* * *

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the living room, casting a warm yellow glow on the living room. The bed that Jordan had slept in sat unmade. She hadn't really felt like fussing with tidiness when she woke up. Instead, she crawled out of bed and carefully took in the details of the apartment in the daylight. The endeavor hadn't proved to be very successful, but at least she felt more familiar with her life. As she stood next to the window where she and Woody had fought, she kept reminding herself that things with him would take time. As frustrated as she was, he was feeling just as helpless and mad at the world. Oddly, she didn't feel any embarrassment about what she had done last night. Somehow she knew that leaving him to carry out his tantrum was the right thing to do.

Now, she sat at the counter of her kitchen, quietly sipping coffee and looking through the newspaper. There was a small article about the new Chief ME of the morgue, Dr. Slocum, and his progress in a string of drowned victims that had appeared in the last few weeks. It left her wondering who her old boss had been, and why they had replaced him with this square. Hearing the soft click of Woody's walking cane, she looked up from her reading to see him emerging from behind the glass wall of her bedroom. His hair was a mess, but other than that he looked five times more rested than he did the day before. Woody met her eyes briefly, then glanced away as he gave a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," Jordan replied, much more brightly. "There's coffee, and I've got stuff out to make an omelet."

"You don't have to do this, Jordan," Woody sighed, heading towards the kitchen.

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be cheerful. Act like I wasn't a total ass last night."

"Woody, you were far from it," Jordan told him. He gave her a skeptical look before reaching into the cupboard for a mug. "I'm serious. I could have behaved better…we were both upset. No one said this was going to be easy. We're just going to have to get used to this whole thing."

Woody poured himself a cup of coffee, listening to what was possibly the most rational thing he had ever heard Jordan say. At least about them. He took a sip of the hot liquid and nodded slightly. Without waiting for a further response from him, Jordan slid off her stool and walked towards the stove where she had eggs, tomatoes, peppers, parsley, and shredded cheese waiting to be cooked. Woody looked at her. He realized he had never really had her cooking before. And if he knew Jordan, he wasn't entirely sure this meal was such a good idea.

"Coffee's fine, Jo," he said innocently. "I'm not really that hungry anyway."

Jordan looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a smirk appearing on her lips. "You don't trust my cooking, do you?"

"That's not it, I'm really just not hungry," Woody insisted.

"You have got to get some nourishment back into that body, and if you argue with me anymore about it, I'm going to hide you canes," Jordan deadpanned. Woody raised an eyebrow at her. She returned the look. "You think I'm joking?"

Woody let out a small laugh and shook his head. Jordan smiled at him, but inside she was glowing with happiness. That was the first real smile she had seen on his face since the first time she saw him. It thrilled her to think that she was making progress in helping him recover.

"I got a call from Lily earlier," she said as she cracked an eggshell against the side of the frying pan, spilling its contents into the griddle over the vegetables. "I guess they have a pretty high profile case at the morgue right now." She paused, thinking of how to propose her next question. "She seemed to think it might be a good idea if I went in there this afternoon. Sort of reacquaint myself with the job."

"Sounds logical," Woody agreed. Jordan waited for him to say more. When he didn't, she went on.

"The thing is, I'd be a lot more comfortable if you were there with me," she told him.

Woody looked at her, surprised. Was she asking him to stay with her?

"I don't know, Jordan, the morgue is sort of your territory," he started. "Maybe it would be better if you went without me."

"Come on, Woody, it won't be that bad," Jordan said.

She then proceeded to give him the same damn beautiful smile that won him over no matter what she was trying to get him to do. _She forgets everything else, but that she can remember to do_.

"Fine," Woody consented begrudgingly.

"Good, after your physical therapy this afternoon, we'll head over there." Woody rolled his eyes at her, reminding her of a child who was told to do his homework. She licked her lips and glanced over at the counter. "Well, here's something that will make you feel better. I know _exactly_ what _that_ is."

She indicated a large Guinness bottle sitting by itself. Woody took the bottle in his hands and turned it over, inspecting it.

"What?" he asked, curious.

"That," she said matter of factly, "is the very first bottle of Guinness that was opened between me and my dad when the Pogue opened."

"You know what the Pogue is?" he asked, incredulous.

"No," she laughed. "That's the ironic part. I only know that that is what the bottle is from."

Woody smiled and looked back to the bottle. "The Pogue was a bar your father owned until a little while ago. We all had some good times there after work."

Jordan looked at him thoughtfully. It didn't really bother her that her memory was limited. She was just proud to have caught onto something that was meaningful. Woody's eyes clouded over a bit as he lost himself in memories of the past. _God, I wish you could remember the Pogue Jordan. And how happy we always seemed to be there,_ he thought. _Maybe I can do something about that…_


	7. Thank You For Playing

**Chapter 7! GO!**

At 3:58, Jordan was trying very hard not to laugh at the look of death Woody was giving her as he was finishing up the exercise of lifting his knee so that his thigh was parallel with the floor, then releasing it slowly and repeating with the other leg. Once again, Woody had assumed that because Jordan could not remember anything about other people, she would behave in a more timid fashion. And once again, he was rewarded with typical Jordan drive which resulted in him putting more into his physical therapy than he had been forced to do in the hospital. She also wouldn't let him quit one second before he was supposed to.

"C'mon, Detective, minute thirty to go," she said as encouragingly as possible.

"You know, Jordan, my training to be a cop was more forgiving than this," Woody grumbled, then immediately wished he hadn't wasted breath on the statement. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on something other than the burning in his muscles.

"Ah, well then, they were too easy on you, weren't they?" Jordan joked. Despite his sour attitude about his recuperation, Jordan saw a spark of ambition in Woody that she was determined to bring front and center. She had a feeling that his spirit for survival had been a huge part of his personality until a short while ago. Now it was time to find out if she could get him motivated enough, or even angry enough, to bring that back. "Just think, Woody, in a little over a minute, once you catch your breath of course, you can curse me into the ground for putting you through this. Funny, isn't it? All that time in the hospital and you wanted to get out. And now you have me to deal with. I bet the nurses there were just smitten with you, and about a hundred times better looking than me. Lots of blondes, right?" Woody glowered even more at her. She just laughed good naturedly. "I bet you'd give anything to go back to that -"

"Jordan can you do me a favor and just shut up?"

"Oh you don't want me to agree to that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because then I wouldn't be able to tell you that you're done," she smiled at him as she clicked the button on her stop watch.

Woody let out a huge breath and reached for his water bottle before collapsing onto the couch. Jordan tossed the watch at him and sat down, tucking her legs under her. Taking a look at the packet she had been given on his therapy needs, she mentally noted that everything had been done in full without him having to stop for a reason other than his own stubborn resistance.

"Looking good," she complimented him. "It doesn't really surprise me that you recovered as fast as you did."

"Yeah, well, I'm still just a shadow of what I was before," he said cynically. His face was set, and the glare of anger was still in his eyes. "Three weeks ago you had me running five miles at a time. What good is a cop who can't even make it through a set of knee-ups without getting winded?"

Jordan looked at him in concern. She had been sure he was stepping away from that kind of thinking. There had been moments in the last day when she felt like there were two different people fighting for control of Woody's body. One was caring, and hopeful if not completely optimistic about life. The other was this defeated man who was only sure that the world had dealt him a doomed hand. It wasn't hard for her to decide which suited him better.

"What is making this so difficult for you, Woody?" she asked slowly. "I mean, everything points to you spending the rest of your life as a handicapped man. And here you are, defying everything the textbooks predicted for you. That's not something to sneer at."

Woody stared gravely at his hands while she spoke, listening to what he knew was the truth. But there were things about his views on life and death that he just couldn't share with her, had never really shared with her even before this. And he certainly didn't feel like revealing the secrets of his past with her right now. It was too much for him to voice the irony of the shooting.

"Jordan, I joined law enforcement to fight back against the idiots who make this world a crap hole," he told her solemnly. "And I can't do that until I run those five miles again. Until then, all I have to look forward to is deskwork. What use am I then? How is that possibly something to be proud of?"

Jordan stared at him, somewhat in disbelief. Reaching out with her hand, she gently touched it to his face and turned him to face her. She made sure she had his eye before speaking.

"Woody, what you are doing right now is something to be proud of. It's a miracle; you know that, don't you? Someone out there is making sure you keep going in this world. And you're going to beat this completely. Because I honestly can't imagine you giving up," Jordan said firmly as she gripped his hand. "You've been trying to be Superman, fighting the bad guys until they're all gone. But even Superman had to deal with his kryptonite from time to time."

With a feeling of relief, Jordan felt his hand tighten around hers. His face relaxed a little and she saw the anger drift out of his eyes.

"How do you do it, Jordan? How do you know how to talk any sense into me at all without knowing a thing about me?" he asked. She shrugged innocently, not sure if she should say anything. "I'm lucky you're sticking this out."

"You're lucky for a lot of reasons, but being stuck with me as a burden is not one of them," she muttered. Suddenly, she remembered something from the previous night that had bothered her conscience as she fell asleep. "Woody, I wanted to ask you something. Something that I probably should have been more sensitive to last night. Why is it that I'm listed as your next of kin? You told me why I have you listed, but why..." She trailed off as she noticed him look away from her in avoidance.

"It's not really something I like to talk about," he told her calmly. "You didn't really know too much about it even before…well, before. All you need to know is that there is no one else."

"Well I hope one day you'll be able to tell me about it," Jordan said softly after a moment's silence.

* * *

Nigel watched out of the corner of his eye as Jordan finished stitching up the latest drowning victim that had been brought into the morgue. Lily had basically snuck Jordan into the morgue while Slocum was out for the day. They had let Slocum know that Jordan's doctor felt it would be best for her to be around familiar environments. He had graciously agreed to let her visit briefly if it would speed her recovery. However, he had not agreed to let Jordan assist on cases. None of them had really planned on getting Jordan so involved so soon, but her intense interest in the case had overpowered any protests they had. Five young women, all apparently chosen at random, had been submerged in water forcefully and left to be found. There was absolutely no connection between. Nigel himself had admitted that is was a mind puzzle.

Forgetting that he was supposed to be running tests on samples from the body, Nigel must have made it too apparent that he was watching her. She looked up at him and smiled knowingly as she snipped the last suture. He blinked in embarrassment and shook his head.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just amazing. How you can remember how to do an entire autopsy perfectly, but…"

"But forget an entire life?" Jordan offered bluntly. Nigel glanced away from her gaze. "It's ok. There's no point in trying to pretend it didn't happen."

"We just don't want to make this any more difficult for you."

"I know," she smiled sadly.

The despondent look in her eyes broke Nigel's heart. Since the moment she had stepped out of the elevator, she had been eager to let this place absorb her back into its history. He could see the hopeful look on her face, almost read her thoughts: that this place would solve everything. He was sure that was the reason she had jumped on the chance to participate in the work going on, trying to recapture why the morgue made her who she was. But after a few hours, all that she had found was proof that she could move mechanically through the motions of her life. Beyond that, there was nothing.

"Well," Jordan said as she snapped off her gloves. "That's all done."

Just then, Sidney came through the double doors holding a large manila folder. He gave Jordan a charming smile and walked right over to her, holding the folder out.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, we got some interesting results back from taking a look at her clothes. And they're yours if you can tell me my name," he grinned. Nigel rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Yeah, I'll tell you your name," replied Jordan as she snatched the folder from his hands before he could react. "It's Rumplestilskon, and you go parading around as some guy named Sidney."

"Hey, Doc, no need to go bashing my height," Sidney said as he put his hands up in defense. Jordan gave him a smile before opening up the folder.

"So what've we got here?" she asked, allowing Nigel to read over her shoulder.

"Well, we found a small piece of fabric that was caught on the zipper of her jacket," Sidney explained to them. "And on that fabric, we were lucky enough to find a hair."

"That's the first item the killer's left behind," Nigel commented. "He slipped up."

"Or she fought back more fiercely than the others," Jordan added. "There were signs of struggle all over her body."

"Were you able to get a match?" Nigel asked.

"Indeed we were," Sidney said proudly. He flipped the page for them so they could see the DNA results. "Say hello to the hair of one Martin Gomez."

"No," Nigel exclaimed in disbelief. Jordan looked at him, confused. Without even waiting for her question, Nigel went on. "The Boston PD has been trying to nab this guy for over a decade. He got caught up in a nasty murder trial involving a drug ring. But no one could ever find enough evidence to convict him. He's been lying pretty low, but people have wanted him behind bars for the longest time."

"Including Slocum," Sidney said. "I guess he was one of the ME's in charge in the original trial. Bagging this guy now would sure give him a boost in the system."

"But that's not right," Jordan insisted. "You guys were the ones to find this. Slocum hasn't done a bit of work on this if what you've told me is true about him."

"Unfortunately, love, that's not how it will play out once this goes public," Nigel told her apologetically.

Jordan glared at the case file, upset by the injustice of what was going on in the morgue. When she had first arrived in the late afternoon, her friends had filled her in a bit on the events of the last few weeks. About how her old boss, Garret, had been forced to leave because of his actions on a case eight years ago. And now Slocum had taken over. Jordan had not missed the stony looks on their faces nor the sarcastic way they talked about his "reign" over the morgue staff. She personally could not understand why they didn't simply become mutinous. She was even more surprised that there was apparently no evidence of her doing anything to fix the situation. If it made her this upset without the memories, it should have made her nearly spontaneously combust before. She handed the folder back to Sidney.

"Thanks for letting me play today, guys," she joked. "I intend to stay involved. I'm gonna go scrub out, I'll be back."

Nigel and Sidney watched her walk out, knowing that it could mean big trouble if Jordan decided to get too involved in this case, amnesia or no amnesia. Slocum had his way of consenting to ideas without saying which part he was consenting to. Jordan taking charge of the situation would not sit well with him. Then again, there were benefits to having Jordan Cavanaugh on your side in an investigation.

The sound of the door being pushed open behind them caused the two to look around. Woody was walking in aided by his canes, with Lily and Bug in tow. Woody looked extremely uncomfortable, and for good reason. They had been civil to him throughout the evening for Jordan's sake, but it was obvious that he purposefully stayed out of the way as much as he could to avoid any unwanted confrontations. And now here he was surrounded by the four people he did not want to have to deal with.

"Well, Woodrow finally decided to come out of hiding," Nigel said coolly. "Where'd you find him?"

"Memorizing the vending machine," Bug replied. Woody rolled his eyes.

"Ok, can we move on now? I think we've established that you all hate me," he grumbled. "Have any of you heard from Dr. Macy yet?"

"Unfortunately, no," Lily said, her concern overpowering her dislike for Woody. "Nobody can reach him. We've tried everything."

"I guess Jordan's disappearing act taught him a thing or two over the years," Bug remarked. The comment was met with heavy silence as everyone accepted what they had been trying to deny: Garret had run.


	8. Tell Me

Getting that particular group of people to agree to going out after work was hard enough, but Woody met an especially stubborn roadblock when he mentioned going to the pub that had replaced the Pogue. An acquaintance of Max's had bought the bar, changed the name to O'Hara's Irish Pub, but the interior had remained pretty much the same. Woody was trying to convince them that it was the only strong memory Jordan really had, and hopefully it would encourage more memories to come back. They were all concerned that it would bring back the wrong memories. It was then that Woody had confided to them that Jordan knew her mother had been murdered, but nothing about the details of the case and the mystery around her family's involvement. He was met with shocked looks. He decided to add that if they refused to go, it would mean he was alone with Jordan at the pub then. So naturally, all of them agreed to go.

Woody sat at a bar stool at the end of the group, watching Nigel dance with Jordan to a side-by-side style swing dance. Nothing striking had hit Jordan in the time they had been here, but her mood had improved a great deal and she seemed to be having a great time bonding with everyone. The evening was having the opposite effect on Woody. Being forced to sit at the bar and watch Jordan dance with every guy but him was putting him into an increasingly jealous mood. And all he could drink was water. Lily had offered to buy him a drink in an outburst of charity, but he reminded her none too subtly that with the amount of medication he was on, a drink would kill him instantly.

The song ended, and Nigel and Jordan made their way back over to the bar. Jordan was smiling as she hopped back onto the barstool next to Woody.

"I don't think we've done this in over a month," Bug said with a grin.

"Certainly not since Slocum showed up," Nigel agreed. He turned towards Woody and raised his glass in a toast. "Excellent suggestion, Woodrow."

"Anytime, Nige," Woody said with false enthusiasm, mimicking the toast with his water glass. Jordan noted the sarcasm in his voice and started to feel bad that this obviously wasn't going so well for him. She knew it wasn't having the desired affect; she still remembered nothing of the bar.

"Oh, come on farm boy," she teased him. "That's no way to behave." Grabbing his hand, she jumped off the barstool again and tugged at his arm. "C'mon."

"What, Jordan?" Woody asked, not amused.

"Let's dance."

"Jordan, I can't -"

"Don't even say it," Jordan interrupted him and held a hand up to stop his words. "I don't want to hear that from you. Just come dance with me."

Reluctantly, Woody slid off the barstool, very aware of the stares he was getting from the others. If Jordan noticed the tension, she wasn't letting on. He let her lead him through the other couples on the dance floor and over to the jukebox, holding onto her for support while she dropped a quarter into the machine. When she turned to him, smiling as she draped her left arm over his shoulder and grasped his hand with her right, he knew it was over for him. With the first strains of Dean Martin's "Return To Me," Woody found himself getting lost in Jordan Cavanaugh all over again.

Jordan had asked Woody to dance because she felt she was being fair. She had already danced with Nigel, Bug, and Sidney. It was only logical that she dance with Woody as well. She had waited because she didn't want him to overexert himself early in the evening. Now, as she felt the pressure of his hand against her back, she started to wonder about the hesitancy surrounding their relationship, especially on the part of her co-workers. Jordan began to realize there was a reason behind their questioning his looking after her. Because, without even thinking twice, Jordan felt herself being drawn to Woody in a way which she had not predicted. They seemed to move closer to each other instinctively, neither leading the dance.

"We've done this before, haven't we?" she whispered against his shoulder.

"Yeah, we have," he murmured.

His words hummed into her body, making her thrill, and frightened at the same time. They didn't speak again until the song was over. Jordan stepped back and tried her best to smile naturally at him, acting as though her whole universe hadn't just been turned on end. He followed her lead and they walked back towards the bar. The others looked like they were ready to go. They had gathered their jackets and Lily had her purse slung over her shoulder.

"Sorry to cut this short, love, but we face the guillotine if we're not on time in the morning," Nigel said to Jordan.

"Oh hey, no problem," Jordan said, almost too casually. "We had a good time, right? Even if my memory wasn't jogged by any of it." She glanced quickly at Woody after she made this last comment.

"One day at a time," Bug encouraged her. "We're just glad you're feeling better."

"C'mon, let's go find your coat," Nigel said as he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the coat check.

The second they were out of earshot, Lily turned to face Woody. Her face no longer held the fury that it did two days ago, but was instead replaced by a firm determination. She crossed her arms and took a step towards him.

"Have you told her yet?" she asked, clearly worried.

"No, not yet," Woody sighed irritably. "I'm waiting for the right time."

"Woody, there is no right time to tell someone you shut them out of your life," Lily lectured him. "The longer you wait, the more she will have learned to trust you, and it will make the blow that much greater. I'm telling you this because I know that she's going to think you betrayed her by not saying anything. She already told me how glad she is to have you of all people looking after her. You need to tell her."

"I don't understand why you people are making this into such a big deal," he said, trying to keep his voice from getting too loud. "Why is this so freakin' important?"

"Because she loves you!" Lily whispered harshly.

Her words stopped Woody in his tracks. When Jordan had whispered in his ear, begging him not to leave her, he automatically assumed that the words had been a confession in a moment of panic. She had never said anything like that before to him. But it never occurred to him that she would share those feelings for him with anyone else. He had underestimated the bond between Jordan and Lily. He never really saw Jordan as having a best friend that she told her secrets to. Nigel always seemed to know the most about her, but it was mostly intuition and a large amount of questioning. It really threw Woody to think that Lily had known this secret all along.

"Yes, she loves you," Lily continued in a whisper at the shocked look on his face. "She has for a long time, whether you knew it or not. When I told you that you destroyed her, I meant it. You pushed her over the edge. Now we're fighting to get her back. Please, don't do anything that will convince her to stay gone, Woody."

Lily stopped talking when she saw Jordan and Nigel returning from the coat check. The group exchanged goodbyes at the door, walking out into the cool night air. Jordan walked close to Woody, ready to help him should he stumble. She looked back in time to see the other four looking after her with concerned expressions. When they saw her turn around, they averted their eyes and continued on their way. Jordan had no idea what all this tension was about. All she knew was that it was time to start facing her past. She needed to hear the truth.

* * *

The ride home was a silent one. Woody was too affected by the night to say anything, and Jordan was focused on what she was going to try to say to him once they got inside. She was highly disappointed that the elevator ride didn't last longer. She was in no hurry to leap into another serious conversation that would no doubt end awkwardly for both of them. As they entered the apartment, her mind reeled with the questions she wanted answered. Woody didn't seem like he wanted to drag the night on any longer, as he immediately headed for the bathroom.

"It's been a long day, Jordan, I think I'm just gonna go straight to sleep," he said hurriedly.

"Uh, Woody?" she started nervously, following him into her bedroom. "We need to talk."

Woody stopped. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. He turned towards Jordan, a look of understanding on his face. Nodding towards the bed, he propped his walking canes against the night stand and sat down. She joined him on the edge of the bed, her hands clenched together on top of her lap. She looked everywhere but at him, fearing what he might have to tell her.

"What happened tonight…" she began. "I need you to tell me. You need to tell me what we were. Why everyone looks at you like you cheated on me. Why you told me you were angry at me when I first walked into your hospital room two days ago. I need you to tell me why…why I felt like if I let you go tonight…you would never come back."

Jordan's heart was beating quickly, partly from the rush of the truthfulness of what she had just said. She hoped to God she wasn't completely off base in what she was asking. But she couldn't deny what she had felt tonight, or the strangeness of their whole situation.

Woody listened silently, waited until he was sure she was done.

"I can't think of a word exact enough to describe our relationship, Jordan," he said softly. He gave a small laugh, remembering how many times he had been right here, trying to define precisely what they were. What he wanted them to be. "To be perfectly honest, I can't remember a time when I didn't think of you as more than a friend. But…we both had our demons. And I had to be content with putting our friendship first."

"What does that mean?" she interrupted.

"It means," Woody said slowly. "That I never seemed to pick the right time with you to try to go beyond where we were. It was hard to convince you that it was a good idea."

Jordan stared seriously ahead of her. She knew he was trying to sugar coat things.

"Sounds more like I did a good job of blowing you off for the last four years," she said bluntly.

"Oh, no, don't think of it like that," he stammered quickly. He could practically see the walls being rebuilt in front of his very eyes. _Please don't do this Jordan_. "I mean, I always understood why you backed away, even if I was disappointed." She turned a surprised face towards him. He closed his eyes, knowing he had picked the wrong words. "It's not like I helped things, Jordan, I gave you a God damned diamond ring for your last birthday, I mean, talk about pressure."

Jordan's eyes widened at his revelation. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This man sitting next to her had basically just told her that he had been in love with her as long as they'd known each other, had done nearly everything to get to her, and she had rejected him every time. She couldn't understand why, after all that, he was still willing to stand by her.

"So that's why you didn't want to see me," she said in disbelief. "Because I had rejected you." When he hesitated to answer, Jordan felt her heart sink. There was more. She had not expected the conversation to take this turn. There was no ignoring the way she felt when they were dancing, and she couldn't believe that she had allowed herself to hurt him for four years while inside she wanted nothing but him.

"Look, when I was shot…" Woody trailed off, thinking of where to start. "You have to understand something. I was scared. And angry. I was facing the possibility of never walking again," he emphasized, taking hold of her hand. "In my mind, I might as well have died as never walked again. And I didn't…I did not want to end like that…like my father."

Jordan stared into his eyes, her face full of emotion. She held tight to his hand, hoping to give him some strength, hoping that he didn't hate her. Of all things, she did not want to hear that she had left him alone when this all happened.

"He died when I was sixteen," Woody went on, more quietly this time. "He was shot by some teen convenience store robber. I was so terrified of becoming that – of failing. And you…" Jordan held her breath, saw his eyes become heavy with tears that had been held back for far too long. "I had waited for so long to hear you say you were ready for that next step. But I was so angry at it all…"

Jordan's mind flashed to an image of Woody lying in a hospital bed, his face stone cold. Wrenching his hand from hers. She felt the very life drain out of her.

"You told me to get out," she quavered.

Woody met her eyes carefully, ashamed of what he had done. He saw now how much he had overreacted. And what it had cost him. Lily was right. He had only waited two days, but it was long enough to cause more damage than he ever intended.

"Jordan, I am so sorry, I was confused, I didn't mean it," he pleaded with her.

She absently slipped her hand away from his, running it through her hair. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. In her mind, she saw a sort of slide show flashing the same pictures over and over again. Pictures of her and Woody. Dancing. Laughing. And one of him covered in blood, being wheeled into the hospital. She felt sick to her stomach.

"I…I'm sorry, I need to be alone right now," she nearly choked on her words as she stood up and walked out of the room, escaping into the blackness of the living room in time to conceal the tears that were starting to fall from her eyes.


	9. And The World Goes Round

When Jordan saw Woody the next morning, he looked as though he wanted to fix everything that had gone wrong. Before he could say anything, she begged him not to talk about it. She didn't want to have to deal with it just yet. She needed time to wrap her mind around the jumble of memories that were pushing their way back. She assured him that she knew he only wanted things to go back to normal. The problem was, she still didn't know what normal was.

The next four days passed very much in the same fashion as the first. Jordan helped Woody with his physical therapy, and then the two of them would head over to the morgue. Woody was thankful that she didn't completely give up on him. But he missed the fire that had been in her eyes before. He no longer saw the desire to overcome her situation; to make him overcome his situation. Now, she just looked haunted. She wouldn't tell him about her dreams anymore, or what else she may have recalled from her past. When he asked, she told him it didn't matter. All he could do was keep trying, hoping he could get through to her.

By the time they would arrive at the morgue in the late afternoon, Slocum was usually too stressed out with the drowning cases to care if Jordan sat in on the work. Or, he was already gone for the evening, leaving everyone else to pick up the slack. As long as they wore the visitor stickers, he just ignored their presence. Within three days, the police had found enough evidence to arrest a man who was known for working under Martin Gomez. While Gomez himself was not yet linked to the earlier murders, this arrest in addition to the hair found on the latest victim was enough to prompt an intensified search for him.

Woody tended to stay out of the way while he was in the morgue, opting to talk with any of the officers on the case when they came in. He found it was a good distraction while Jordan busied herself with helping out on autopsies. Aside from a moment when Lily had thanked him for being honest with Jordan, he had chosen to keep a low profile. At the moment, he was sitting in an empty conference room, staring out the window at the city below. He was managing to make it around with only a cane now, thanks largely to Jordan's help with his therapy. Even in her emotional withdrawal, she still remained vigilant about making sure he was all right.

"You've been looking better the last few days," Lily's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Yeah, well," he muttered half heartedly. Lily walked over and leaned against the wall opposite him.

"You don't have to hide out all the time, you know," she joked.

"As I recall, someone around here threatened me with the promise of a body bag for a home recently," he replied sarcastically. "That's not much incentive to be social."

Lily grimaced slightly and looked down at her shoes.

"Yeah, sorry about that," she apologized. "It's just that none of us wanted to see Jordan more hurt than she already was."

"You should have seen her when I told her about us," Woody sighed. Lily looked up at his face, concerned at his misery. "You had every right to be angry, Lily. All of you did. I was a complete bastard. But you have to understand -"

"I do, Woody. I do understand. Despite my recent demotion to coffee runner and desk clerk," Lily smirked, "I am still first and foremost a grief counselor. And you two have gone through some heavy grief in the last few weeks."

Lily placed a comforting hand on his arm and smiled up at him. Woody knew he had been forgiven. At least by them. He was silent for a minute before he spoke again, his voice betraying the anguish he was trying to conceal.

"She won't talk to me."

"Oh, Woody," Lily said soothingly. "Just give her time. She's probably scared out of her mind right now."

"She talked to me in the beginning," he argued. "I told her I was sorry, I don't know what else I can do to get her to try again. She's giving up."

"Woody, remembering what other people have done is only part of what she's going through. She also has to deal with her own actions. It's not pleasant for anyone in a _normal_ state of mind to own up to their mistakes. How do you think _she_ feels right now?"

"I just…wish she would trust me again," he finished quietly. Lily heard the doubt in his voice.

"You did the right thing, Woody. Don't ever question that," Lily told him.

After a moment, Woody pushed away from the wall and took hold of the cane. His vision went slightly blurry for a few seconds and he reached out for a chair to steady himself. Lily grabbed his arm, holding onto him as he regained his balance.

"Are you ok?" she asked worriedly.

"I think so," he answered. Reaching up to rub at his eyes, he was surprised to feel the skin on his face moist with perspiration. He looked at his fingers as he pulled his hand away. Lily noticed it too and placed a hand on his forehead. As she did so, she was shocked to see that his skin had paled significantly in the last few minutes.

"You're warm," she said seriously.

Just then, they heard the door open and Jordan walked in, confused by the severe looks on their faces.

"I've been looking for you," she said to Woody. Then she noticed the sickly look on his face and hurried over to him. "What's the matter?"

"He has a fever," Lily told her.

Jordan followed Lily's actions and felt Woody's forehead. His skin was nearly burning. Looking into his eyes, she could see that their nervousness was making him anxious. She told herself that she needed to calm down for his sake.

"Have you been feeling ill today?" she questioned him.

"I felt a little achy, but it's not unusual especially with the therapy," he explained to her.

"Lift up your shirt," Jordan instructed him. Woody looked at her, surprised. She rolled her eyes. "I need to check your incisions."

Woody did as he was told. Jordan carefully inspected the front entry wound and could not see anything wrong with it. It seemed to be healing nicely. As she walked around to his back, she swallowed hard. She bent down and gently ran a hand near to wound. At the center, it was severely discolored. The skin around it carried a green tint. The proximity to his spinal chord frightened her.

"It's an infection," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Woody turned to her, the fear evident on his face.

"What! How is that possible? It looked fine this morning," he insisted.

"Sometimes it can develop very rapidly," Jordan said. She looked at Lily. "Call 911, we're going to need an ambulance."

Lily didn't need to be told twice. She dashed out of the room without a word. Jordan pulled a chair over to Woody and made him sit down.

"I don't think an ambulance is really necessary, Jordan," Woody started.

"At the rate at which this developed, yes it is. I can't risk you going into shock in the passenger seat of my car," she said firmly, again feeling the skin of his cheek for any temperature change.

Woody reached up suddenly to grasp her hand, surprising her. He held on tightly and looked up into her eyes, once again warm under his gaze. He looked terrified.

"Please listen to me, Jordan. Believe me. I'm so sorry for what happened."

"Don't start talking like that, you're going to be fine," Jordan faltered.

"Maybe I am. But I don't want to have to go through this alone," Woody implored. Jordan tightened her hand around his.

"You won't."

* * *

Jordan paced the waiting room of the OR. She had barely touched the plate of food that Nigel had brought up for her. It had long gone cold over the two hours since Woody had gone into surgery. Nigel sat slumped in a chair nearby, his head resting against the steeple his hands formed. He had seemed unusually upset by this turn of events, insisting on driving with Lily and Jordan over to the hospital. Jordan glanced up at the clock for the millionth time. She told herself it was pointless and that it only succeeded in convincing her that the longer it was taking the worse it probably was.

"I should have been more understanding," Nigel whispered suddenly. Jordan stopped pacing and looked at him. Without looking up, he went on. "We were all so furious at what he had done to you. We used the fact that he had a clear bill of health as an excuse to be hard on him. Our sorrow turned to rage overnight."

"He'll be okay, Nige."

It was all she could think to say. She knew her friends were just trying to protect her. She remembered feeling like she had been shot in the gut herself when Woody had thrown her out. Of course, she had told no one that the event was getting progressively clearer in her mind. Or that it had seemed to trigger other memories; memories that made no sense, but plagued her nonetheless. Watching a man step out of window, knowing he had nowhere to go but down. Seeing who could only be her father packing his suitcase, walking out of her life forever. A myriad of pictures filtered through her mind, but there was one that scared her more than any other: looking down at her own wrist, seeing her blood staining her skin.

Jordan shuddered and subconsciously clasped her wrist close to her body. They both looked up as Lily hurried into the room, carrying a small suitcase and a bag of take out. She put the food on the table and placed the suitcase down next to it.

"Ok, I got you a change of clothes and toiletry things and some other stuff to keep you occupied in case you need it," she told Jordan in a motherly fashion. "And please promise me you're going to eat something."

"I will," Jordan smiled, amused at the insistence of her friend. Nigel stood up and joined them.

"You sure you're going to be okay by yourself, love?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The last update said things were going well in there. There's no point in you guys staying any longer, especially since you have an early shift tomorrow," Jordan assured them.

"Okay," Lily consented as she gave Jordan a hug. Nigel did the same, planting a kiss on the top of her head. They waved back at her as they rounded the corner towards the elevator.

Jordan let out a shaky breath and decided to investigate the food. She chuckled when she opened the bag and discovered a vegetarian sandwich, some fruit, and a protein smoothie from Lily's favorite natural foods café. Jordan had just taken a bite out of the sandwich when a nurse came out of the OR and headed towards her. Jordan jumped up, eager to know what was happening.

"He's doing just fine, Miss Cavanaugh," the nurse said immediately. "We just brought him out of surgery. It all went smoothly. They caught the infection in time and he's been put on antibiotics. You can follow me to his room."

Jordan was so relieved and eager to see Woody that she nearly left everything out in the waiting room. The nurse obligingly helped her carry her things as she took Jordan to the recovery room. The room was very much like the one where Jordan had first seen Woody after being brought into the ER. He was lying asleep, his head propped up. He looked restful. The nurse quietly closed the door and left Jordan by herself. She had forgotten how peaceful hospitals were at night. The only sounds were the beeping machines next to Woody's bed. He was breathing perfectly on his own.

Slowly, almost shyly, Jordan walked over to his bedside and took a seat in the chair. Staring at him for a long while, she was surprised to find that she felt overwhelmingly calm. She was sure that when this moment came, she would cry and cling to him in happiness, relieved that he was all right. And she was relieved. Yet, she didn't feel the surge of emotion that she had expected.

Jordan reached out and took his hand, holding it gently and for the first time really feeling the warmth that emanated from it. She let her fingers trace the pattern of his hand, committing the sensations to memory. With her other hand, she brushed the stray hair away from his face, allowing her fingers to linger along his brow. She noted his relaxed face, peaceful in a way that she had only seen in her memories. Jordan didn't feel grief or fear. She didn't feel guilt. She didn't feel convulsions of joy, or wracking sobs. She felt…home.


	10. Of Farm Boys, Princesses, and ROUS's

**A/N on the title of this chapter: for those of you who have never read _The Princess Bride_ (and everyone should read it!), ROUS's stands for Rodents Of Unusual Size... guess who that is...evil grin**

It was well past nine in the morning when Jordan finally noticed Woody's eyes flit open. She put down the book she had been reading to pass the time and leaned forward in her chair, closer to him. Woody squinted sleepily at the morning sun and reached up to rub his eyes. When his eyes focused, they settled on Jordan.

"You stay here the whole night?" he asked groggily.

"Yup."

Woody looked surprised by this, almost suspicious that she would choose to do such a thing.

"Your surgery went well," Jordan told him, evading the questions written all over his face. "It could have been a pretty serious situation, but time was on your side."

Woody just looked at her, trying to figure out why, after four days of avoiding any more contact with him than was necessary, she would stay all night in his hospital room. Jordan kept her eyes down, staring at the edge of his bed. She was trying hard not to let her discomfort show. Chalking her sudden change of heart up to typical Jordan impulsiveness, Woody dropped his interrogation stare.

"Did they say when I can get out of here?" he decided to find out.

Jordan relaxed at his question, glad to find that the conversation was going to stay on a fairly normal level.

"Tomorrow, barring any complications," she said, obviously happy to give him the news.

"Thank God," he breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't think I could stand any more hospital time."

Jordan chuckled at his enthusiasm. Getting to know him over the last week, in addition with her surfacing memories, she understood how easy it was for him to grow restless. Although he had a tendency to hide out at the morgue, she saw how eager he was to at least get out of the apartment for the afternoon. That was one of the reasons she continued to drag him there with her.

"Oh, I've got some news," she said, her eyes dancing back up to meet his. "I talked to Sidney a while ago, and he told me to tell you when you woke up that they arrested Martin Gomez."

"They got him?" Woody asked in disbelief. "I bet Slocum is over the moon about this. Word has it around the precinct that he's going to get a lot of recognition for this."

"Not to mention settling an old score. But here's the interesting part," Jordan went on. "Apparently, Gomez was aware that one of his henchmen was drowning these women. They were all getting their drugs through him, but they were extremely good at covering their addictions up, being such promising young women as they were."

"All upper middle class, very upstanding lives," Woody interjected.

"Exactly. But for some crazy reason, they thought they could get away with evading payment. Big mistake for them."

"Wait, you said that it wasn't Gomez who was killing them," Woody said, confused. "So how can they get him on anything but drug possession?"

"Don't forget, they found his hair on the last victim," Jordan reminded him. "And yet, he's firmly denying that he murdered her himself. And his henchman isn't claiming responsibility either."

Woody furrowed his brow, thinking about this information. Jordan waited for him to speak, hoping that perhaps he would see something in this case that they had all missed.

"That doesn't make any sense," Woody muttered. "Why would they confess to the all the other murders, and deny this one?"

"I don't know," Jordan shrugged. "I was kinda hoping you could lend some insight." Before she could try to cover it up, Jordan started to yawn, revealing just how tired she really was. "Oh, sorry," she apologized.

"Jordan, did you sleep at all last night?" Woody asked her. Jordan shrugged it off and waved a dismissive hand at him. Woody gave her a stern look. "You're exhausted, Jordan. Go home and get some rest. I promise, I'll still be here later today."

She smiled at his concern. Earlier, before he woke, she had planned on arguing with him to let her stay. Now, however, a few hours sleep in her own bed was starting to sound pretty good.

"As you wish," she said as she stood up. "Ah, that reminds me." She turned around and picked up the book she had been reading, holding it in front of her as she faced him again. "_The Princess Bride_."

"What?"

"'Farm boy' is from _The Princess Bride_," she handed the book over to him. He took it and looked curiously at the elegant hard cover book. "Lily packed it for me last night when she brought my overnight bag. Timely, isn't it?"

With that, Jordan placed her hand at the back of his head and kissed him lightly on his brow.

"Get better. I'll be back later," she told him, mussing his hair before leaving the room.

Woody watched her go, completely dumbfounded by her theatrical and sudden departure. Jordan certainly had a way of acting exactly the opposite of how he expected sometimes. Most of all, he was just plain shocked that she listened to him without an argument. He looked back down at the book, wondering just how his nickname had come into existence. It amused him that Jordan would pluck it from a book. He assumed that the book had triggered the memory of choosing to call him farm boy. Taking a deep breath, he opened the cover and began to read the well worn pages that Jordan obviously cherished.

* * *

Jordan nearly fell asleep in midair as she crashed into bed. For the first time in a week, she had a dreamless sleep, free of any thought at all. She woke at four in the afternoon, feeling a thousand times better. For a while, she just lay there, enjoying being able to relax. She checked her cell to make sure the hospital hadn't called, and was glad to see they didn't. Snuggling down into her pillow, she found herself inhaling the scent of Woody's cologne. Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of him. She stretched her hand out across the bedspread, imagining him lying there. 

Ever since the night she had danced with him, she knew beyond a doubt that there was something between them. It wasn't until after his revelation about their fall out that she really began to remember her feelings for him. It was bitter sweet remembering it, because along with those feelings of warmth came memories of letting him slip away from her, hurting him, and finally his rejection. She felt like an outsider viewing her idiotic actions towards him, wishing she could scream at herself to just shut up and let him into her life. It was odd experiencing the feelings of love first, and then realizing she had unfairly pushed him away because of her insecurities.

She just thanked God that she was being given a second chance. Somewhere along the lines, Woody had found a reason to stand by her just a little while longer. She believed him when he told her that his words to her in the hospital were said in anger and fear. She understood that. Her own decision to avoid him for the last few days was based on fear as well. But what he didn't know was that it was mostly fear of herself. Jordan wasn't all that thrilled with the person who was making her way back into her mind. All she could do now was make a choice to accept who that person was, and then walk away from every stupid decision she had ever made in regards to other people in her life.

With a refreshed mind and a clear plan ahead of her, Jordan hopped out of bed and showered quickly. She headed over to the morgue, determined to find out what was going on with the drowning cases. Stepping out of the elevator, she absently grabbed a visitors' badge and sought out Nigel. Quickly spotting him in his office, she knocked twice and entered without waiting for an answer.

"Jordan, how's Woody? I heard he pulled through all right," Nigel inquired.

"He's great, Nige," she told him with a smile. Nigel looked relieved to hear it from Jordan. "He's actually pretty preoccupied with the Gomez case," she hinted none too subtly.

"You never were a very good liar, Jordan," Nigel smirked. "Especially when you want something."

Despite his teasing, Nigel walked over to his desk and retrieved a few files that were sitting there. Jordan walked over to him as he leaned against the desk and opened up one of the files.

"We have got some juicy stuff here," he prepped her. She looked at him eagerly. "You heard that Gomez and Torrance, the other seller, are totally denying the latest murder. Yet, we have the evidence to convict Gomez."

"Old news, Nige," Jordan hurried him.

"Right," Nigel looked at her, his thunder stolen. "Ok, well, we took another look at the residue from under her fingernails. Before, all we could find was latex, which makes sense if the killer was wearing gloves to cover his tracks. But at some point in the struggle, she must have broken through the gloves." He stopped momentarily to pull out a sheet of paper. "And low and behold, human DNA…and it's not Gomez's."

"Wow," Jordan marveled. "And I thought there was only one situation where you don't want the latex to break. I stand corrected."

"Jordan, I do believe you are making a full recovery to your old self," Nigel laughed. Jordan took the file from him and browsed through it.

"Has anyone shown this to Slocum yet?" she asked as she looked.

"Not yet," Nigel's fervor died down. "None of us really want to be the one to tell him. He's going to be furious."

"Allow me," Jordan smiled mischievously, walking out of the room before Nigel could say anything to stop her.

Jordan walked briskly towards Slocum's office, barging into the room without even knocking. She was a little surprised to find that there was no one there. For being such a pain in the ass boss, Slocum really knew how to avoid the office most of the time. Jordan suddenly realized that she was alone in his office. Something clicked in her head, and all she could think of doing was snooping around.

Looking through the windows to make sure no one was watching, she placed the file down on the desk and casually walked behind it. The place was absolutely immaculate. Jordan didn't understand how anyone could be this neat. In frustration, she figured out that she wasn't going to find anything good without being completely conspicuous. Just as she was about to give up and leave, she noticed a small evidence bag sitting on the lower shelf of his bookcase.

Picking it up, she saw that it held several strands of short, dark hair. Furrowing her brow, she looked for any kind of label on the tiny bag, but could find none. _Well that's strange_, she thought. Without warning, the door banged shut behind her. Jordan jumped and turned around quickly to see Slocum standing there, fire in his eyes. _Damn it!_ she thought, realizing that she still held the bag in full view. She stammered for an explanation, but he cut her off.

"I warned the staff not to let you get involved in the cases," he snapped. "I don't care how good of an ME you are. I was going against my better judgment to even let you visit. But now, you have proven that you've worn out your welcome. You may leave now."

After dismissing her, Slocum walked pompously over to his desk and sat down in his chair as though he was taking the throne. He froze and looked at the file sitting across his desk, looking at it like he might have a burnt dinner.

"What is this?" he demanded, looking up at her. He then noticed the bag in her hand. Standing up abruptly, his hand shot out towards her. "What are you doing with that! Give it to me!"

Jordan began to feel her rage bubbling to the surface, close to exploding. Gritting her teeth, she carelessly tossed the bag on top of the case file.

"Must be pretty important," she said, a challenge in her voice.

"It is," Slocum said self righteously. "It's the sample taken from Martin Gomez. It's what's linking him to this murder, what's bringing him to justice after many years of crime."

"Why is it unlabeled?" Jordan questioned firmly. "I mean, if it's all that important… In any case, you might want to take a look at that file. You'll be rethinking that whole justice thing."

"Out," Slocum growled at her, pointing towards the door.

"Gladly," Jordan spat back at him, leaving in a fury and nearly shattering the glass in the door as she slammed it shut.


	11. That's Not Very Ladylike

**I hope y'all like this chapter… I certainly had fun writing it :)**

Woody watched Jordan pace back and forth in his hospital room, his hands folded patiently across his stomach. Aside from a quick hello when she first stormed into the room, he hadn't had a chance to speak since. The passionate, crusading Jordan Cavanaugh was back as far as he was concerned.

"You should have seen the look on his face, Woody," Jordan steamed. "There is something funny going on there. I don't know how he was ever allowed graduate from _kindergarten_, he probably terrorized the other kids into a totalitarian society from the age of five. I swear, I was about ready to just -"

"Jordan, Jordan," Woody stopped her rant and reached out to grab her arm to get her to hold still for ten seconds. "Ok, I know you're upset and Slocum is a total rat, but… you _were_ snooping around in his office."

Jordan huffed and gave him a withering look.

"Trivial detail," she said. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "I know, I know. You're right, not the best place for me to be… but I just -"

"No, no, no 'buts'," Woody stopped her again. "Look, if there's anything weird going on, they'll figure it out." He gently tugged her arm towards him and she sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him.

"I don't know why that got to me so much, Woody," she admitted. She sighed and rubbed at her temples.

"Because of what happened with Garret," Woody said quietly. "Maybe we haven't told you enough about it. When Garret left the morgue, from what I heard you were hell bent on getting Slocum out and bringing Garret back. You're very devoted to him, Jordan."

Jordan smiled a little, glad to hear his words. She was beginning to doubt her character when she learned of her seeming passivity in the morgue being overturned to Slocum.

"I'm starting to remember a little bit about him," she told Woody. "Not too much, just feelings really. How… how much of a father he was."

She looked at him, slightly embarrassed. It was the first time in several days that she had shared a memory with him. Woody's face reflected the pride that she felt about her recovery. He took her hand and she felt her body freeze in nervousness.

"Speaking of memories," he began, looking at their entwined hands, "I took a look at that book you left for me."

Jordan followed his gaze shyly. She felt like a teenager being called out on a note she had left for a boy. She swallowed hard and shoved the fear of the unknown out of her mind. _Just shut up and let him in_.

"Did you now?" she smiled expectantly.

"Yes I did," he smiled back, his fingers running lightly across the back of her hand. "Funny thing about that story…it seems that the reason she calls him 'farm boy' and orders him around is because she actually loves him."

"Well…how 'bout that?" she whispered, her eyes flitting up to meet his.

"I'm sorry I was too stupid to believe you before, Jo," Woody murmured, his eyes dark and intense. "I'll never doubt you again."

"Good."

Woody slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Jordan's heart raced at his touch, allowing herself to relax into his embrace for once. Her eyes stayed focused on his until he was merely inches away from her, and then dropped her gaze to his mouth. She felt her breath catch in her throat as his lips started to barely brush hers.

"Time for your evening meds, detective!" a nurse sang out as she burst into the room, completely oblivious to the moment she had interrupted.

Jordan and Woody jumped away from each other, startled and extremely disappointed. Woody gripped the bed sheet to try to control his fury against the unassuming nurse. Jordan exchanged a look of sympathy with him. The nurse seemed to notice Jordan for the first time.

"Oh, I'm sorry miss," she said. "Visiting hours are over."

"But last night, I -" Jordan started.

"I know, but that was an exception. Detective Hoyt is doing just fine now, and we have to go by the rules again," the nurse at least seemed apologetic to have to tell her this.

Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but at a look from Woody she closed it again. She looked at him and tried her best to convey her feelings without saying a word. He squeezed her hand and shrugged in defeat.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said to him, and he nodded. Dejectedly, she stood up and walked towards the door, glancing back at him one more time before leaving. His eyes were still locked on her, revealing how much he wanted her to stay. As soon as she was out of sight of the room, Jordan closed her eyes, clenched her hands into fists in the air, and let out a silent scream of rage.

Jordan barely slept that night, but not because of nightmares. She lay in bed for nearly three hours, just staring up at the ceiling and fuming at whatever bad luck had ripped her away from Woody again. For a few minutes there, it seemed like fate was going to let them have their chance. And now she was at home, alone, once again tantalized by the smell of him in her own bed, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She wanted to smack fate in the face. Finally, after hours of agonizing, Jordan fell asleep.

* * *

Bug had just changed into scrubs for the day in the locker room and was walking through the almost empty morgue towards autopsy. Slocum truly delighted in making Garret's favorites arrive just after dawn. He yawned sleepily and pushed the double doors open to get started on another long day. He stopped short when he saw a familiar brunette head in front of one of the trace machines.

"Jordan, what are you doing here?" he asked incredulously, hurrying over to where she was. "Slocum practically has a price on your head."

"Yeah, well, I have a price on his right now," she retorted, continuing exactly what she was doing. "I'm still an employee in this morgue, I have just as much right to work here as anyone else."

"Not on a case that you've been banned from," Bug pleaded with her. "And if you don't get out of here, I have a feeling you won't be an employee for much longer."

"Let him fire me," she said facetiously. "Just as long as I have enough time to get a match on this DNA…"

Bug watched her perform the finishing touches on the sample before submitting it to the data base. He thought he recognized the case file that was sitting next to her. Groaning, he said, "Please don't tell me that's the mystery DNA."

Jordan just smiled wickedly at the screen in front of her in response.

"What is it with you and phantom evidence?" he demanded, and then wished he hadn't said anything. Jordan looked at him questioningly. He forgot that no one had wanted to say anything to her about the mysteries in her mother's case. Changing the subject quickly, he said, "I don't know what you expect to find, we already ran it against the national database."

"Bug, my friend, never underestimate what Nigel has taught me about under the table tracing."

He took a nervous breath and decided to just go along for the ride. They both watched the screen for nearly a minute, hoping for something to show up. The beep of a match startled them both, and Jordan jumped forward to inspect what they had found.

"Charles Quinten," she said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Who did you expect to find?"

"Not him…" her voice trailed off, looking closely at the information in front of her. "It's a perfect match. I don't understand…"

"What I don't understand is why you are here," Slocum's voice boomed from behind them. He was standing in the doorway, just barely overhearing the end of their conversation. "I thought I told you to stay out."

Jordan felt her anger build up inside her again. She was sick of being threatened by this pathetic person when she was perfectly in her rights to be working on this case.

"Obviously, my work was needed on this case," she argued with him. "I just traced your mystery evidence for you."

"Congratulations. I'll make sure to get you a medal," Slocum said scathingly. "And now I want you out…or do I have to call the police?"

He turned on his heel and left Jordan and Bug standing in the autopsy room, stunned. Bug worked for something to say to her, but before he could formulate a sentence, Jordan narrowed her eyes and set out after Slocum. Bug ran after her, nearly colliding with Lily and Nigel on his way out of the room.

"Jordan!" he called out.

"What's going on?" Lily asked. Bug didn't answer her, but kept on after Jordan. Nigel and Lily looked at each other and followed suit.

"You know what, Slocum?" Jordan was confronting him in the middle of the lobby of the morgue. "You could show a little more appreciation for those people who work their asses off for you here. If you would stop being a jerk for five minutes you might be able to give them the chance to actually do their job."

"I'm warning you, Dr. Cavanaugh, I am not above having you physically removed from this building," Slocum said.

"Of course you're not. You're not above a lot of things I bet. But you seem to be above conducting a thorough investigation on the Gomez case," she accused him.

"You were told to stay off that case."

"You were ignoring a huge piece of evidence, how could I just sit there and let you overlook it! We found someone else's DNA under her fingernails," Jordan dropped the bomb. By this time, everyone who was in the morgue had stopped what they were doing and focused completely on the ensuing battle of wills.

"What are you insinuating?" Slocum asked her coolly.

"I'm saying, we have reason to doubt Gomez's involvement. It's possible someone is framing him."

The room fell awkwardly silent, and all eyes were frozen on either Jordan or Slocum. Slocum calmly walked closer to Jordan and stared her down.

"That's an awfully big assumption to toss around," he said condescendingly. "But then, you were always one to make the radical accusations around here, weren't you? Never could leave well enough alone. Had to stick your nose into every piece of business that wasn't yours. It's what got your father into trouble with his past. You just couldn't ignore the mystery of your mother's murder."

"Shut up, Slocum," Nigel said menacingly. Slocum merely shot him a threatening look and went on.

"I bet your friends forgot to mention that to you. Oh yes, Miss Cavanaugh, there is a lot of suspicion surrounding your father in regards to that murder." He stopped briefly, enjoying the look of disbelief and fury on Jordan's face. "But that wasn't the only case where you burned bridges, broke every law possible to try to get to the truth. Did they also fail to mention that your own investigative skills brought Garret Macy down from his pedestal? Your relentless, irrational behavior has destroyed more lives than it's saved. And you were ready to lie for him, too. Once a law breaker, always a law breaker. And what has it gotten you? Your father's gone. Garret is gone. Excellent work. Now…I am going to turn around and go into my office. And when I come out again, you will be gone. And I don't want to see you or hear any more renegade talk about Gomez being framed. He is guilty, and I intend to see him locked away for the rest of his life."

Jordan watched him turn slowly and arrogantly around, her ears ringing so loud in anger that she could barely hear anything but his disgusting voice. He had barely gone three steps when Jordan spoke.

"Hey, Slocum."

Slocum turned around just in time to see Jordan swiftly pull her arm back and release it, her fist crashing menacingly into his jaw with a huge crack. There was an audible gasp from everyone watching as Slocum toppled backwards onto the floor, his hands flying up to cover his face in pain. Jordan stood there just long enough to catch the looks of shock and admiration on the faces of her coworkers before striding out of the room, feeling better than she had in a long time.


	12. Sooner Or Later

"You did what?"

"I _hit_ him, Woody, I gave him a right hook in the jaw," Jordan barked into the phone.

"Jordan, wha -?"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know, I don't know how it happened, I just did it. The things he was saying, and in front of everybody," Jordan snorted in frustration. "I just got so mad, you know? And before I could stop myself…" she let him figure out the rest, wedging the phone against her shoulder so she could massage her right hand.

"Great, Jordan, this is great. This is even worse than when you kicked your LA boss in the balls."

She nearly dropped the phone. "I did what!"

"Yup," Woody said. "And I believe the restraining order is still in effect."

Jordan shut her eyes in disbelief and ran a hand through her hair. This was so not looking good for her. Punching Slocum had not been her goal when she woke up that morning and went over to the morgue. Things had escalated out of control, and every feeling of frustration and injustice and anger had compressed itself into that one moment when her brain decided a sucker punch was in order.

"Where are you right now?" Woody asked her, the tension evident in his voice.

"Ummmm, I am at my apartment," she said, her words affectedly precise. "Woody, I, ah, I really have no idea how to fix this, I think I'm in real trouble here," she stammered.

"It's okay, just…come pick me up in an hour like we planned and…we'll think of something, all right?" he said reassuringly.

"I don't think I'm savable this time around," Jordan said honestly. "I'll be lucky not to get a court summons."

"I'm not going to let that happen to you," Woody said firmly. When he got no argument from her, he took it to mean the subject was finished for the moment. "I'll see you in an hour?"

"Yeah," she sighed lightly, trying not to let her aggravation seep through.

They exchanged goodbyes and Jordan hit the off button and set the phone down on the counter. She felt absolutely horrible. All feelings of satisfaction from hitting Slocum had slipped out of her about an hour after she got home. Well, almost all of them. She allowed herself a brief, smug smile before admonishing herself.

"Oh, stop it," she said reproachfully. "It's not like it did any real good."

Huffing slightly, she strode into the bedroom to organize what she needed to bring to the hospital with her. She quickly located the small travel bag that Woody had used to carry his things when he first came home. Placing it on the bed, she turned to try to find the file that had his records in it so that the check out process would be faster. Not seeing it on the bureau where it usually was, she spotted his briefcase and pulled it onto the bed, snapping it open. She shifted the papers around, not yet finding what she wanted. Wondering what on earth he could have done with that file, she absently glanced through some of the papers.

She stopped short when she realized what she was looking at. Fumbling to find the file that had been on top, Jordan flipped it open and stared down at the text on the page: **Psychological Analysis of Jordan Marie Cavanaugh**. Biting her lip, she looked at the date at the top of the page. It was the day she had been brought into the ER. The day she had lost her memory. They must have given Woody a copy of the information. She swallowed and began to read her own file. It became apparent that Woody had provided a detailed narrative of the traumatic events in her life. Jordan felt her heart begin to pound as she read descriptive accounts of what exactly had gone wrong in her life to cause her breakdown.

She poured her first shot of vodka when she read Woody's account of how Jordan had nearly gotten her friends fired in her desire to gather evidence in her mother's murder case. The severity of her actions to find information on any case.

She poured her second shot when she read about her fall out with her father, how he had nearly lived the life of a thief. For the first time, she read the true story of why Garret had to leave the morgue, and what a huge part she had played.

She poured her third shot when, after working her way through the interview and the ungenerous analysis, she opened another folder to reveal the case file on her mother. Not the official police file, but a private one that contained extreme information about what she had discovered. She found out about her brother. She found out that her own parentage was in question, and that the truth had been buried with her mother.

When Jordan finished reading the last page, she dropped her hand to her lap and stared into space with a lost expression. Her head ached immensely. Everyone had been so careful to tell her the truth without actually revealing everything. They had done a good job. She squeezed her eyes shut against the hot tears that were forming. _God, what am I supposed to do now?_

* * *

Woody looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last few minutes. One forty five. Jordan was fifteen minutes late picking him up. Normally, he wouldn't really question Jordan's tardiness, but given everything that had happened that morning he was starting to get concerned. Drumming his fingers on the edge of the bed, he decided to give her five more minutes. Just as he made this decision, his room phone rang. He stood up to go answer it. 

"Hello?"

"It was all true."

"Jordan," he said, a little surprised at the thickness of her voice. "What's wrong?"

"What he said, what they all said to me, it was all true," she said rapidly, mumbling through her words slightly.

"Whoa, slow down and tell me what's going on here," Woody tried to calm her down.

"Slocum was right, I am a horrible, horrible person," Jordan's voice started to break. "I just do whatever the hell I want without thinking about other people."

"Where is all this coming from?" Woody asked. He was growing slightly suspicious about the quality of her voice. There was something familiar about the way she was talking.

"I found the files. You know, the ones in your briefcase, why did you hide those from me?" Jordan said, her voice rising all of a sudden.

"…Jordan, are you drunk?"

"No!...maybe a little."

"Oookay," Woody muttered. "All right, look, I didn't hide those from you. They were for my benefit in helping you get better, ok? Now, what I want you to do for me is _stay there_, and we can talk about this as much as you want when I get back. Can you do that for me?"

"How're you supposed to get back?" she asked as though she didn't really care what the answer was.

"I'm going to find out if they have a hospital shuttle that can take me," he said, then added firmly, "Do not leave, Jordan, whatever you do, do not leave."

* * *

_She's gonna leave_, Woody thought the whole way back to the apartment. The hospital did indeed have a shuttle system, and he was currently the only passenger in the white minivan. They weren't that far from Pearl Street, but Woody had a sinking feeling that Jordan would find a reason to bolt before he got to her. He still couldn't believe she had found all those files. It wasn't anything she wouldn't have remembered eventually, but he hated the fact that she had it thrown at her all at once. The second they pulled up outside the building, Woody hurried as fast as he could to get upstairs. The driver helped him up with his things. 

"Jordan!" he called, pounding on the door. When she didn't answer, he cursed under his breath and whipped out the key she had given him. He barged into the room and fought the urge to scream when she was nowhere in sight. Looking around, he quickly found a piece of paper on the counter. He picked it up and discovered that it was her mother's death certificate.

"Hey, are you all set?" the driver asked, eager to be going.

"No," Woody answered, still looking at the paper. He scribbled something on a stray piece of newspaper and turned back towards the door. "I need you to take me somewhere else."

"Hey, look buddy, I'm not a taxi service," the driver protested indignantly. "I go to and from the hospital. I have to get back."

Woody blinked and glared at the man for a second.

"Fine," he grumbled, jamming his hand into his pocket and retrieving his wallet. "You want to be paid? Here." He shoved forty dollars at the driver. "That's twice what I would pay a taxi for where I want you to take me, including tip."

Without waiting for a response, Woody shoved past the driver and out into the hall. The driver looked down at the money, shrugged, and followed.

Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled into High Hills Cemetery. It was one of those old fashioned, colonial cemeteries that reflected the historical side of Boston. A single road curved through the green, hilly landscape, shaded generously by maple trees and poplars. It was quite beautiful for being what it was. Woody spotted Jordan's car and pointed the driver towards it. When they stopped, he opened the door and almost immediately saw her, turned away from him so that all he saw was her long, cocoa colored hair. She was kneeling in front of a grave marker, her head bowed.

Woody thanked the driver, who guiltily gave him the money back and expressed his sorrow for their loss before driving off. Shifting uncertainly, Woody just stared at Jordan for a moment. Now that he was here, he wasn't entirely sure of what to do. He felt a little bit like an intruder just walking over to her. Finally, he made his way over to the grave, sitting quietly on a bench that was next to her. Jordan didn't look up, but she must have known he was there. Woody gripped the edge of the seat and looked at the headstone.

_Emily Cavanaugh_

_Beloved wife and mother_

For perhaps the first time since he had known Jordan, Woody felt the incredible injustice of her mother's murder. As he looked at her kneeling there, he could see the innocent, ten year old girl who couldn't be convinced that God had wanted her mommy in Heaven. He connected with Jordan on a much deeper level than ever before, watching silent tears escape from her eyes every so often.

"I haven't been here since I was fifteen," she whispered, simply making a statement. Woody opened his mouth to respond, but found he was speechless. "I made her a promise that I would visit every day. I guess I shouldn't make promises I can't keep."

Her voice was not angry or sarcastic. She was just talking, sharing what was on her mind.

"You remember that?" Woody asked her gently.

"I remember everything," she stated, still not looking up at him. Then she repeated, more pointedly, "I remember _everything_."

At what Woody had always thought would be a moment for rejoicing, he was taken aback to see Jordan lower her head into her hands, letting the tears fall freely. Her body drooped and she wrapped her free arm protectively around herself.

"Why did they leave me?" she sobbed. Woody was knocked out of his stunned state and immediately knelt down next to her, enveloping her in his arms. He felt her sag against him, her hand gripping onto his arm. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she buried her face against his chest and wept. "Why did they leave me?"

"Shhhh, it's okay," he soothed. He rubbed her back and rocked her gently, letting her cry out the flood of emotions in her body. Some time later, after Jordan had calmed down significantly, Woody stroked the back of her head and murmured, "C'mon, let's get you home."

He helped her up and guided her to the car, placing her in the passenger seat. On the drive home, Woody held onto her hand, not wanting her to feel for a second that she was alone. Once they got back to the apartment, Woody steered a very emotionally drained Jordan towards the bed and sat her down. He removed her shoes like he would for a child, and then laid her back into bed. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and knelt down beside the bed. She was staring into his eyes, a look of tiredness in her face. She reached out a hand and placed it on the side of his face.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He grasped the hand in his and said, "Of course." Turning his head slightly, he kissed her fingers and then brushed her hair away from her face. "Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need me."

Within minutes, Jordan was sound asleep. Woody stood in the opening that led out into the living room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched her sleeping amongst the white linen, her face red and tear stained. He felt guilty for the millionth time at having rejected her pleas as they were wheeling him in after he had been shot. He had not missed the importance of her words in the cemetery, begging to be given answers of why she was always abandoned. Jordan had watched many people walk out of her life, some in the most horrific of fashions. All she did was beg him not to join them, not to leave her. Instead, he had forced her to walk away. He felt like the world's biggest idiot.

Sighing resignedly, he leaned over to pick up the offending briefcase before walking into the kitchen. He figured his time would be best spent doing two things: making sure Jordan had something to eat when she woke up, and trying to find a way to talk to her about what was in those files. He did not really want to think about what was going to happen to her for punching her boss. Woody just prayed that things would work out for the best…and that maybe they could pin it on her medication.


	13. Everything Else Can Wait

**Awwww, you guys and your reviews make me blush! Thank you for the wonderful words of encouragement. So here we go into the home stretch… it's a little one, but a goody (I hope)…**

The first thing Jordan was aware of when she slowly woke up was the sound of Woody talking on the phone to somebody. She blinked her eyes open tiredly and stretched out her kinked back before sitting up to see where he was. She could hear him just on the other side of the partition walking back and forth. On one pass, he glanced into her room and saw that she was awake. He held up one finger and mouthed, 'one second.' Jordan sat back a little and tucked her feet up in Indian style, waiting for him to be finished. She noted that the sun was nearly down outside, and looked at the clock to find that it was after eight.

"Yeah," Woody was saying. "No, that makes sense…Okay…No, she's here with me right now…Uh huh…All right, I'll let her know."

He shut the phone off and walked towards the bed, an unreadable look on his face.

"Am I fired yet?" she asked right off the bat.

"No," Woody told her, the most unusual grin spreading across his face. "Actually, something very interesting has happened. Do you happen to remember how many people were watching when you punched Slocum?"

Jordan looked at him as if to say, 'Are you kidding me?'

"Ten, Jordan. Ten people were there," he answered for her. "Not exactly a crowd. And unfortunately for him, they were ten people who really did not like him as replacement for Garret. They rallied together and told him if he tries to get you into trouble, they're going to report that he has been emotionally abusive to the staff and that what he said to you provoked you to hit him. Given what Lily told me he said, it doesn't surprise me that he's afraid of being called in for a hearing. That was some incriminating stuff."

Jordan listened in a stunned silence, not believing her good fortune. She had taken what Slocum said so personally that she had completely overlooked the fact that it was a serious mistake for him to make those comments at work. Feeling extremely grateful towards those ten people, she smiled and placed a hand to her stomach in relief.

Woody hesitated, then asked, "Did he really say all those things? About your parents and all?"

"He did," Jordan nodded.

"Bastard," Woody grumbled, understanding what it was like to lose control because of a personal jab.

Jordan's eyes glazed over a bit, and she looked like she was reliving it. "It was horrible. And then to come back here and find those files."

Woody was about to open that subject up, but she didn't notice him start to speak and talked right over him. She had suddenly thought of something, and her look of relief turned to one of unease.

"What about the surveillance cameras?" she asked quickly. "Someone's bound to see it, even if he doesn't say anything."

"Nigel checked it out," Woody reassured her. "They were being fixed at the time. It didn't catch a thing."

Her jaw nearly dropping in shock, Jordan couldn't think of a single thing to say to this. For once in her life, she felt like luck was running totally on her side. Looking up at Woody, she made a snap decision to see if that luck would follow her for another few minutes. There were a lot of things that she needed to sort out now that her memory had returned to her, but the most important thing was standing right in front of her. Everything else could wait. Her face took on a more serious expression as she held out her hand towards him.

"C'mere," she said quietly. For a second, Woody seemed puzzled and taken by surprise at her sudden change in demeanor. That moment was fleeting, though, and he quickly took her hand and allowed her to pull him down onto the bed beside her, one leg tucked onto the bed while the other still touched the floor. Jordan noticed for the first time that he was walking unaided.

"You don't have your cane anymore," she stated, smiling proudly

"Nope," he affirmed, just as proud. "The doctors think that the infection was hindering my walking. With it gone…well, it's just easier."

Jordan just stared into his eyes for a moment, relishing in the boyish look that she had longed to see return. Now that her memory was back, she could fully appreciate what he had gone through for her over the last week. It might have taken him being shot for her to admit her feelings, but it obviously had to be something greater that would eventually bring them together, on the same page for once. Things would never go back to the way they were before. In fact, she was going to make sure they wouldn't.

"Jordan, I have to explain those files to you," Woody said uncomfortably, as though he knew what she was thinking. He wanted to get all their cards on the table. "I wasn't trying to betray you or hide anything from you…"

"I know, Woody," she stopped him. "When I found those files, I was scared because I didn't know what they meant. But now…I just see them for what they are…accounts of my past. I know why you did what you did." She smiled at his expression. Obviously, he wasn't prepared for her to be this understanding. "I learned something in the last week, Woody. I learned that I need to let certain things go so that I can move on with my life."

As she said this, Jordan shifted to sit on her knees, moving closer to him. Woody caught on right away to where she was going with this. She noticed his body tense expectantly, never taking his eyes from hers. She rested a hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb. His arm automatically went around her waist, and her skin warmed to his touch even through her shirt.

"I meant what I said at the hospital," she told him warmly. Then she looked coyly away from him and smirked as she said, "And if memory serves me correctly, I do believe that I said I _can_ say what you want me to say. It wasn't a bribe. I never promised that I _would_ if you got better. I had always felt that way…I just hadn't been brave enough to say it yet."

When she looked back at him, she couldn't help but laugh. He looked like he had just been given a million bucks. Woody swallowed hard and said, "I know I already told you this, but I just want you to really know that I was acting like a huge, self-pitying jerk then. And I will never, ever leave you if I can help it. That is, if you still want t-"

Jordan cut him off by putting her fingers over his mouth. Looking into his beautiful blue eyes, she let her fingers brush across his lips tenderly, nearly hypnotizing him. She lowered her gaze to his mouth, just as she had done several times before. She was surprised when he spoke.

"Hang on one second," he gave her a meaningful look, then proceeded to get up and shut off his cell phone, her cell phone, and unplug the land line. Eagerly, he joined her on the bed again and stared at her. "And if that doorbell rings… you do not answer it."

"Yes, sir," she said in mock seriousness.

One second later, though, and she was completely serious. She had found herself in this situation with Woody on more than one occasion, but she had only seen him look at her as he was now once before: their first kiss in California. Beyond lust and want, she saw an honest desire for her – all of her, good and bad. Her heart raced. How many times had he looked at her like that, and she hadn't seen it?

Tightening her hold on him, she pulled him closer and felt herself melt away into nothingness as his lips pressed against hers. The kiss surpassed sweetness and subtle curiosity. Four years of suppressed emotions were released as Jordan encouraged Woody to deepen the kiss, practically dying as his hands roamed over her body. She surprised him when she leaned back and tugged him down on top of her. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he gladly obliged her wishes. As he began to explore her neck with his mouth, he murmured, "I love you, Jordan. I always have."

"I love you too, Woody," she gasped a little as his mouth found a sensitive spot. "And I'm going to love you even more tomorrow," she grinned, reaching out blindly to yank the chain on the bedside lamp, catching his equally mischievous grin before casting them into darkness.


	14. Ding Dong, The Bastard's Gone

**I was thinking of leaving this story with the last chapter, but then I decided another chapter or two was needed, as per the request of some reviewers. Let me know what you think.**

Waking up to the sensation of a strong arm slung across her stomach was something Jordan had not experienced for a while. She found it extremely gratifying. Especially when she opened her eyes and looked over to see Woody sleeping next to her, lying on his side facing her direction. His hair was sticking in every direction. Noticing that he was sleeping with his mouth curved into a contended smile, she blushed thinking that she probably had something to do with it. She just looked at him for a few minutes, enjoying the intimate moment. The fear that gripped her so many times in the past when it came to a relationship with Woody was gone forever. The whole ordeal of reliving all her memories made her recognize how precious every moment of life was. She only got one chance at this. She couldn't waste life by hiding anymore.

Eventually, Jordan realized that they both had their phones shut off all night, and well into the morning. Someone must have tried to call them by now. They would probably be worried. Reluctantly, she broke her gaze away from his face and gingerly rolled to her right to reach for her phone, trying to move as little as possible. Her caution didn't work, though, and she felt Woody's arm tighten around her waist just as she was about to grab her cell, pulling her back to him and out of reach of her phone.

"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured teasingly, his voice thick with sleep.

"I was just going to check to see if I had any messages – Woody!" she laughed as he lowered his head to kiss the curve of her neck, his arms sliding around her protectively.

"Mmm, what?" he smiled.

"What are you doing?" she said innocently, feeling a little shy in the daylight.

"Teaching you a lesson for watching me while I sleep."

"You were awake?" she asked self consciously.

"Yup," he said. He then shifted so that she was lying on her back looking up at him, propping himself on an elbow. With his left arm draped across her, he stroked the hair away from her face, his eyes dancing. "You are the most exquisite woman I have ever laid eyes on."

If Jordan hadn't been lying down, she would have fallen over. It was the sexiest thing any man had ever said to her. Before she could say a word, he kissed her gently, teasing her with the lightness of it. He lowered his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "Leave the phones off."

His breath made her skin tingle, and the temptation was killing her. But her practical side was arguing that staying cut off from people this long was not a good idea. Not unless she wanted them showing up on her doorstep. That was an interruption she was keen to avoid.

"Woody, they might be worried, it's almost ten," she said.

"Let 'em worry," his voice hummed seductively into her body. He kissed her again, and she smiled against his lips.

"Hm, you are trying so hard to distract me," she breathed in between kisses. He just kissed her more in response. Trying not to lose her head, Jordan reached out and felt around the bedside table for her cell phone, hitting the on button when she located it, all the while savoring in the attention he was lavishing on her. After only a few seconds, her message tone rang through the air. "Ah ha," she said triumphantly, kissing Woody one last time before pulling the phone to her ear.

Woody smiled down at her, defeated but amused. He traced a circle on her shoulder with his fingers while she listened to her voice mail.

"Ah, see? Five new messages," she stuck the phone in his face quickly before punching in her code. Three of them were from Nigel, and one each from Bug and Lily. The first four were just them wanting to make sure everything was okay, saying they understood that Jordan and Woody needed some time to sort things out, but call them back when she could. The last one was from Nigel. The second he started talking, Jordan could tell he was excited about something. When she shut off her phone, Woody was looking at her with curiosity.

"What was that last one all about?" he asked.

"They caught Charles Quinten," she told him. "We pulled his DNA from under the latest vic's nails. They're questioning him early this afternoon."

"That's great," Woody said happily.

"Sooo," Jordan started suggestively, "I guess we're not in all that much of a hurry to get over there, are we?" As she said this, she shut her phone off with barely enough time to drop it back on the table before Woody's mouth found hers again.

* * *

Lily looked down at the screen of her cell phone to find it blank. She hadn't really expected that fact to change, given that her phone had not rung at all. She just hoped that maybe she had missed something. She let out a disgruntled sigh and leaned against the wall in the hallway of the police station. In less than ten minutes, the lead detectives on the Gomez/Torrance case were supposed to start questioning Charles Quinten. She was there as spokesperson for the morgue in the event that they needed any of the information regarding evidence found on the bodies. Tapping her foot nervously on the ground, she lifted her phone up again to flip it open.

"I doubt that they called in the last twenty seconds, Lebowski."

Sealy's voice made her jump, and she quickly regained her composure. He had only startled her, but Lily had a feeling he would take it another way. One which would probably place her in the position of losing control every time she heard his voice. She was not about to satisfy his day dreams.

"Since when do you call me 'Lebowski?'" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Since you started referring to me as 'Detective Sealy' this morning when I visited the morgue," he responded evenly. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Because we were standing right in front of Slocum. I swear, I think the guywould havefired me if I called anyone by their first name again," she said gloomily.

"Fire a cute little thing like you?" he questioned, stepping just a little closer to her. "He'd be crazy."

Lily was struck by the sincerity in his voice. Sealy had flirted with her quite a bit, but she had never heard him be this serious about it before. She searched her mind for something to say, and was glad when she heard Woody's voice call out.

"Sealy, I might've guessed you were on this one," he said as he and Jordan came walking down the hall. Lily did a double take. Woody was walking perfectly.

"Woody, you're all right!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Jordan noticed the look of envy that flashed across Sealy's face as Lily did this.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay, Lil," Woody smiled. Lily stepped back and looked him over happily, clearly relieved to see for herself that he was all right. "A little extra care always helps," he added, winking slyly at Jordan. She tried rather unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

Lily then turned her attention to Jordan, who was still attempting to act normal. "What about you, are you okay? Woody told us what happened after you left the morgue yesterday. We tried calling," she said hurriedly.

"I'm doing just fine," Jordan insisted.

"So you're all right now? Completely recovered?" Lily went on.

"Yeah I am," the smile was evident on Jordan's face now. She was always amused by Lily's concern over other people. For someone who had seen so much sadness in the last few years, Lily still managed to bring a little sunshine where there wasn't any. Jordan had a feeling they might be needing her enthusiasm with this case.

"Detective Sealy, they're ready for you," a cop popped his head out of the nearest door.

"Ok, guys. Time to find out if Quinten took the cannoli and left the gun," Sealy said. Lily gave him a questioning look. "_The Godfather_," he explained.

"I know," she said defensively. "I just didn't know you liked that movie enough to quote it."

"Well, you could've known that if you would just accept my dinner offer for once," he told her, leaving her blushing and unable to think of a comeback as he walked into the room where Quinten was waiting.

Woody made a face at Jordan as if to say, 'I am so not getting involved in this.' He hastened to the door of the observation room and disappeared. Jordan looked at Lily, still standing in a shocked silence.

"He's not a bad guy," Jordan stated sort of ambiguously. She wasn't too sure how Lily felt about the whole situation, and she was trying to be subtle. "I mean, he has his moments, but for the most part – not too bad."

"He's never said anything in front of other people before," Lily said quietly. "It's only ever been when he caught me alone. I don't know what to do with this."

"Well," Jordan smiled wistfully. "You should give it a try. It certainly has its benefits. Believe me," she added pointedly. Lily seemed to come out of her trance as she looked from Jordan to the door that Woody had just gone through.

"You mean…you two…you didn't…did you?" she stammered, resembling a school girl more and more with every word. Jordan just nodded discreetly. "Oh my God!" Lily exclaimed as she gave Jordan a congratulatory hug. "Took you long enough."

"Lily!"

"Well it did!"

Jordan shook her head, laughing. "I'll tell you more later. Right now we better get in there so we don't miss anything."

The two women joined Woody, who was reading up on the information they had on Quinten. He looked up as they walked towards him, standing in front of the one way mirror.

"So what's the deal with this guy?" Jordan asked.

"Well, looks like he used to work with Gomez," Woody told her, looking at the file. "They were partners in the drug trade. But Gomez got greedy and kicked Quinten out of the loop, cutting him off from prime business."

"They arrested him early this morning for a DUI, and only figured out once they got him in here that it was the man we were looking for," Lily added. "We're lucky he didn't slip through the system. The police didn't even have the evidence you found until just after they brought him in," she told Jordan seriously.

"Why?" Jordan asked, her brow furrowing. "We matched the DNA more than twenty four hours ago, they should have had it."

"Slocum told the staff that no one but him was to bring that evidence to the police," Lily said bitterly. "He didn't want the credit going to you, seeing as he has a certain distaste for your methods. But Nigel called Sealy early this morning to ask if Slocum had brought the DNA in, and we were all pretty shocked to find out that he hadn't."

"He still wanted to pin this on Gomez," Jordan said in disbelief. Lily just nodded.

"That son-of-a-bitch," Woody muttered.

"Needless to say, Slocum got a notice for a conduct meeting," Lily said. "But he quietly resigned as Chief ME just over an hour ago. I guess he decided it was better to cut out than have something like this on his record."

The words hit Jordan like thunder. She didn't say anything out loud, but she was praying that Slocum's resignation would mean that Garret could be brought back in. This had to prove that Garret was a better candidate overall for the position. She glanced up at Woody and the look on his face told her that he was thinking the same thing. He placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. Their attention turned to the mirror as they heard Sealy start to talk.

"Any guesses as to why you're here, Quinten?" he asked firmly.

Quinten was sitting smugly at the table, looking perfectly at home in the interrogation room. He had no doubt been in this position before.

"Ya just couldn' live without me, right detective?" he said facetiously. Sealy gave him a withering smile and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Let's get to the point," he stated. "We found your DNA under the fingernails of a drowned girl. And you were babbling about the crime when we first got you here in your drunken stupor. Wanna listen?"

Sealy punched the play button on a cassette recorder and Quinten's voice was heard, slurring his words together.

"'I finally got 'im, the bastard is gonna get wha' he deserves. Screwed me for eigh' years, now he's going away because I figured it out. I killed her, jus' like he was killin' all the other -_hic_- the other girls.'"

Sealy stopped the tape and looked at Quinten, who now appeared to be a great deal more uncomfortable.

"They got him," Woody said under his breath.

Finally, after several moments, Quinten spoke. "Fine, you got me confessin.' So what's the point a this?"

"The point of this is to find out how Martin Gomez' hair was found on the girl's body," Sealy told him, his voice revealing that he was starting to lose patience.

"Well ya see, detective," Quinten said slowly. "We all keep our little tokens. Just in case we need 'em somewhere down the line."

"Are you telling me that you had the means to frame Martin Gomez?" Sealy asked point blank. There was a heavy silence that followed his question. Sealy slammed his palm against the table, startling Quinten. "I'm not playing games anymore, Quinten!"

"Yeah, I had the means! And a damn good thing for you guys, too, or you never woulda figured this out!"

Sealy grabbed a file off the table and stormed over to the door, ripping it open. They could hear him bark, "I'm done with him!" to the guards before the door to the observation room swung open and he walked in. He shoved the file at Lily.

"You can tell your staff the good news," he said gruffly, heading towards the door almost immediately.

"Hey, Matt?" Lily started uncertainly. Sealy stopped and looked around at her. Lily shrugged bashfully and asked, "Would – would you like to have dinner tonight?"

Sealy was rendered speechless for the first time. He struggled to formulate a sentence before finally managing a simple, "Yes."

"Great, I'll call you later," Lily beamed.

Sealy left the room looking like he didn't know which way was up. Lily bit her lip and smiled after him. She turned around to gather her things and was met with the knowing looks of Jordan and Woody.

"Oh, shut up," she told them, though she was still grinning.

* * *

The three of them headed back over to the morgue, Jordan and Woody being respectfully quiet about Detective Sealy. In the elevator, Woody gamely took Jordan's hand in his and was happy when she didn't pull away or attempt to hide it. He had been a little worried that, despite everything she had told him, she would be hesitant to make their relationship public. When the three stepped out of the elevator, they caught sight of Nigel standing at the front desk talking to a secretary. Nigel took one look at Jordan and Woody and smiled with the same 'I-told-you-so' look that Lily had. 

"So, things went well?" he asked, not even bothering to hide the double meaning in his question.

"Yes, things went very well at the precinct," Lily jumped in to save the couple any embarrassment. The group started walking through the morgue. "As usual, the Boston PD managed to get to the bottom of…"

But Jordan didn't hear the rest of Lily's explanation. The second they walked into the office area, she heard it: the sound of jazzy blues playing in one of the rooms. Her head whipped around to find the source of the noise, her heart skipping a beat. Then she saw him, facing the other direction, still in his black leather jacket. Jordan walked determinedly away from the group, her steps quickening the closer she got to the office door. She burst into the room, giving Garret barely enough time to register who it was before flinging her arms around him. She heard his small, 'Oomph,' knowing that she very nearly knocked the wind out of him.

"Where the Hell have you been?" she choked through the tears that were starting to form.


	15. If He Asked Me

**Ok guys, I need a vote: I think I want to tag on one more chapter after this… yea or nay? I'll probably do it anyway, but I just wanted to see what the general consensus was. Enjoy!**

Jordan stood in the middle of Garret's office, holding onto him like there was no tomorrow. She was so afraid that it would all be a dream. She couldn't believe he was back.

"Uh, Jordan," Garret said. "Breathing is going to become an issue here pretty soon."

"Sorry," Jordan apologized as she quickly released him. She looked him over, relieved to see that he looked the same. Part of her worried that he would fall apart while he was away from the morgue. "I just can't believe you're here," she told him.

"Didn't they tell you I was back?" Garret asked her.

Jordan looked at him questioningly, and then turned slowly towards the door. Nigel, Lily, and Woody were all standing there perfectly calmly, huge grins on there faces. As soon as Woody saw the incredulous look on her face, he stepped away from the other two and held up his hands in self defense.

"I had no part in this, it's all a surprise to me," he said quickly. Then he added, "By the way, welcome back Dr. Macy."

"Thanks, Woody," Garret said. "Glad to see you're doing well."

"Whoa, whoa," Jordan interrupted them, narrowing her eyes at Nigel and Lily. "You knew he was back and you didn't tell me?"

"We wanted it to be a surprise," Lily smiled at her. "He only just got here two hours ago."

At a loss for words, Jordan turned back to Garret. He gave her a small smile, revealing none of what he was feeling about being back. Jordan found herself wishing she could read him better.

"Well," Nigel said. "We should leave you two to catch up."

He, Woody, and Lily walked away towards the break room, leaving Jordan and Garret in silence. For a few moments, neither spoke, and Jordan felt that the reunion was not going in the celebratory direction she had imagined. She had already had her say about Garret burying evidence and had moved past that fact. When he left the morgue, she thought she had made it clear that things were okay between them. And yet, he was avoiding her eyes as though something was still wrong.

"Where _have_ you been?" she asked him.

"Maine," he told her. He dug his hands into his pockets, still not holding her gaze for longer than he had to. "I had to get away for a while. An old friend of mine let me use his summer house for a couple days."

"A couple days?" Jordan countered. Garret didn't make any attempt to argue with her. Jordan dropped her sarcasm and continued. "You have good timing, coming back the same day Slocum walks out."

"Rene Walcott called me," Garret confessed. When Jordan scoffed at this, he said firmly, "She didn't know where I was either, don't get jealous. She got a hold of Abby, who gave her the number."

Jordan tried not to fume, telling herself that it was hypocritical to get mad at Garret for leaving like this when she had done the same thing time and again. It wasn't really even that he had left without leaving word. What bothered her was that he wasn't there for her over the last week.

"I heard about what happened," he said, reading her mind. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "I got through it."

Feeling tears start to sting her eyes, Jordan looked away from him so that she wouldn't completely lose it. Garret stepped nearer to her and put an arm around her shoulder. This gesture was all it took to break through the animosity that Jordan was feeling. She leaned into his side and let him comfort her. She felt the normalcy returning to her life with Garret here.

After a few minutes, Jordan heard a soft knock on the door. She glanced up to see Woody poke his head into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," he apologized. "Just wanted to let you know that the gang's cuttin' out early to go have drinks to celebrate."

"Oh, okay. One second," Jordan said to Garret.

She collected herself as she stepped out into the hall with Woody. Garret watched them through the window. As the two talked, he noticed that Woody placed his hand lightly on Jordan's hip, while Jordan absently fingered a button on Woody's shirt. _Well that's new_, Garret thought. The conversation reached an end, and Jordan smiled at Woody as he kissed her innocently before walking away. _That's definitely new_. Jordan still had the same giddy look on her face when she walked back into Garret's office. She stopped when she saw the look on his face.

"What?" she said.

"You're not going to tell me a thing, are you?" he sounded somewhere between annoyance and relief.

"A girl never kisses and tells, Garret," Jordan said mysteriously. She laughed at the uncomfortable look on his face. "C'mon, I'll buy you a drink. We can swap stories about whose week was crappier. Talking about emotional angst always goes better with a Guinness."

She wrapped an arm around his waste as they walked out of the office, and he put his arm around her shoulders again.

"There is one story I'm curious about," Garret started, amused. "I heard a very interesting rumor floating around that you socked Slocum in the jaw. That's the second boss you've assaulted. Do I need to start worrying about my safety around you?"

"No, Garret, I can honestly say that that was a once in a lifetime opportunity as far as boss beatings go."

"My money was on you from day one."

* * *

A few hours later, Jordan was sitting across from Garret in a booth at O'Hara's. The whole group had decided to go there to celebrate, just like old times. Jordan and Garret had been left alone at their table to discuss the many issues that had arisen over the past few weeks. Jordan was surprised to find that she had only needed one Guinness to get her through the long conversation. By the time they had hashed everything out between them, Jordan felt extremely gratified. She had been heard out by him, and he in turn was able to explain his own actions. She understood his need to get away from all the crap that was piling up in their lives three weeks ago. Garret also told her how guilty he felt for not being there while she was working through her amnesia, especially since he had no doubt he was part of the cause.

"It's water under the bridge now, Garret," Jordan said to him. "Everything worked out as best as it could have, there's no point in dwelling on the past."

Garret just stared at her for a moment.

"Who are you?" he asked incredulously.

"The new and improved Jordan Cavanaugh," she smiled. Garret shook his head, a little bewildered. Jordan traced the rim of her glass with her finger. "So you here for good?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you back as Chief ME? Or do I have to keep beating the pulp out of the replacements until there's no one left but you?"

Garret chuckled at her. "Nope, they've decided to let me have one more go at the job."

"Couldn't imagine it any other way," Jordan said happily.

"Apparently not," Garret said with a slight smirk.

Above the noise of the jukebox and all the people in the bar, the bell to the front door clanged. They looked over to see Sealy walk in and straight over to where Lily was watching the guys play pool. Lily's face lit up the second she saw him. For a brief second, Jordan wondered if that's what she had looked like for the last four years every time Woody was around. The guys shook hands with Sealy, obviously congratulating him on the case. Jordan glanced over to watch Garret's reaction as Sealy placed his hand on the small of Lily's back and guided her out the door for their dinner date. The good news was that Garret didn't look like he was going to explode.

"He's a good guy, Garret," Jordan stated carefully. "He'd walk through fire for her."

"With the way she's following in your footsteps, he may just have to," Garret said curtly. Then he sighed and shook his head in resignation. "Speaking of good guys," he continued, "Any father would be proud to see his daughter with someone like Woody."

"Never the subtle one, eh Garret?" Jordan said evasively, taking a drink from her glass.

"He's waited a long time for you, Jordan. Don't let him go," Garret said seriously, surprising her. She had no idea he had taken that much notice of her personal life, watching over her choices as if she were his own daughter. She looked over at Woody.

"I don't plan to," she said quietly.

Garret studied her face for a moment until he seemed to be content with her answer. He grabbed his jacket and stood up, helping her out of the booth.

"I think it's time I was on my way," he told her. She followed him down to where the pool tables were. Garret clapped Nigel on the back as he said, "It's good to be back, boys. I'll see you all tomorrow, bright and early."

Jordan watched him leave as Bug, Nigel, and Sidney put their queues back into place.

"That's sounds like our cue to get outa here," Bug said.

"I wholeheartedly agree," Sidney said. He shook hands with Woody before leaving. "Woody, my man, I'll se ya around. Good to see you mobile."

As the group walked away, Woody came up behind Jordan and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head against hers. Jordan felt her heart flutter at his touch, her stomach turning flips. _Oh man, I am in trouble_, she thought.

"Remember what we used to do after your dad left, and we'd closed everything down?" he whispered into her ear. Jordan smiled.

"Mmhmm."

Woody slid his hand across her back as he moved next to her, tracing a line down her arm before finally taking her hand. He led her across the room to the jukebox and dropped a quarter into the slot, punching the desired number. Jordan was expecting some exceedingly romantic country song that he could hold her close with. It came as a surprise, then, when the sultry doo-wop sounds of Maurice Williams came through the speakers. She laughed at the exaggerated seductive look Woody was giving her as he pulled her to the middle of the dance floor, mouthing the words to the song. He immediately tucked her into his embrace, holding her right hand near his heart as they swayed to the music, their slightly suggestive movements reminding Jordan very much of scenes from _Dirty Dancing_. She was seeing a whole new side to the naïve, smitten farm boy she had known for so long. And she was liking it. A lot.

_Stay!_

_Ah, just a little bit longer_

_Stay!_

_Please, please, please, please_

_Please!_

_Tell me that you're going to_

_Now your daddy don't mind_

_And your mommy don't mind_

_If we have another dance, dear, just one more_

_One more time!_

_Oh, won't you stay!_

_Just a little bit longer_

_Please let me hear_

_You will say that you will_

_Say you will_

_Won't you press your sweet lips to mine?_

Woody turned his head to capture a kiss from her, and then smoothly spun her away from him and back again. He held her even tighter than before, their bodies swaying as one to the rhythmic music.

_Won't you say you love me all the time?_

_Stay!_

_Ah, just a little bit longer_

_Stay!_

_Please, please, please, please_

_Please!_

_Tell me that you're going to_

_Come on, come on_

_Come on and stay_

The music reached its end, and Woody slipped both arms around Jordan and held her close for a few moments. She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, listening to his pounding heart. She felt thoroughly seduced. She had never fallen this hard, this quickly for a man before. Nothing compared to what she was feeling for him.

"Let's get out of here," Woody murmured.


	16. I'd Be His

**Awwww, last chapter guys! It's been a fun ride, thanks for all the input. I'm currently brainstorming a new story, so look for it in the next few weeks. Grazie e Ciao!**

They drove back to Woody's apartment in a comfortable silence. Jordan took advantage of the configuration of his classic car to slide over next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Woody thanked God for the thousandth time that he had given her one more chance. Swallowing his pride and opening himself up to her again was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But now, with her leaning against him, he thought it was one of the most worthwhile choices he ever made. He placed a kiss on top of her head, inhaling the spiced perfume that was so uniquely Jordan.

Woody pulled the car into the parking garage of his building, and Jordan slid out of the car behind him on the driver's side. He took her hand and helped her out, bringing her face to face with him and placing an arm around her waist while he shut the door with his other hand. Jordan felt him pull her closer and looked into his sparkling eyes as he backed her against the car. She knew her mouth was frozen slightly open, expectantly spellbound by the look of desire in his eyes. She rested her hands against his chest, gripping his shirt slightly.

His face was inches from hers, his body pressing against her own. Jordan felt lightening shoot down her spine as he began to lightly kiss his way from her forehead to her eyes, her cheeks, and finally claiming her lips. All the while, his fingers deftly played at the hem of her shirt, making the skin at the base of her spine burn with each caress. He kept their kisses light, but his body told a different story. She slipped her hands around his waist in an effort to bring him as close as possible to her. After what seemed like an eternity, Woody broke away from her and buried his face in the curve of her neck. Jordan clung to him, her breathing significantly more labored than it was five minutes ago.

"God, all I wanted all day was to have you alone again," Woody said, his voice muffled a little.

"And now that you have me alone, Detective, what are your intentions?" Jordan smiled. Woody pulled back and laughed softly.

"Oh, I think you know what my intentions are," he said, stepping back and taking hold of her hand to lead her away from the garage. "But I can't very well do anything about it out here."

"Who says?" Jordan teased. Woody raised his eyebrows.

"Jordan Cavanaugh has an adventurous side," he grinned. She just smiled wickedly in response.

They made their way to Woody's apartment hand in hand, talking about nothing in particular. As they were walking up the stairs, Woody started talking about something to do with his car, but Jordan was only half listening. She kept staring at his face, alive once more with typical Woody enthusiasm. How had she managed to keep him at bay for so long? Well, she knew how. She just didn't want to admit that she was capable of it. Gripping his hand tighter as they neared the door, she reminded herself of the advice Garret had given her.

Woody let them into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the table after closing the door behind Jordan. He kissed her on her brow and said, "I'll get us something to drink."

"Okay. I'm gonna go put my things down," she told him as he went into the kitchen, turning to head towards the back of his place.

"You just want an excuse to check out my bedroom," he called after her, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"So what if I do?" she called back.

She heard him laugh briefly before walking out of the room. His room was exactly what she would expect from Woody. Minimal furniture, no fuss, but the amount of things that were in the room were creating a kind of organized chaos. She bit her lip, still feeling that this whole situation was somewhat surreal. The way Woody looked at her made her knees go weak. His touch effectively shut off her thought process to anything but him. Of course she had felt strongly for him before; but now that their relationship had officially taken that next step, she felt herself drowning in him. And for once, she was glad to be drowning with no chance of being pulled out.

Collecting herself, Jordan put her purse down on a small arm chair near the window and took her jacket off, placing it over her purse. She glanced over to the bureau and noticed a few framed pictures sitting atop the chest. Making her way over, she saw that the majority of them were group photos taken at the morgue or at the Pogue. One photo on the end caught her attention. It was a picture of a man and a woman and two boys. Jordan knew without question that the boys were Woody and Cal. There was no mistaking those blue eyes and those Hoyt dimples. She figured that the adults must be Woody's parents. He had inherited his father's strong build and bone structure, but the winning smile and bright eyes were solely his mother's. Picking the frame up to get a better look, she noticed something that had been stowed behind the frame.

Jordan froze, her heart leaping into her throat. There sat a familiar black velvet box, hidden but not forgotten. She just stared at it for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that it was sitting in his apartment. After a moment, she put the frame down again and tentatively reached out to pick the box up, almost afraid that it would shock her, or bite her, if she got too close. It didn't, though, and her fingers closed over it just as easily as the first time she had had it in her hands. Would he have held onto it? Jordan hesitated for only a second before deciding to flip the lid open.

Woody had opened a bottle of Merlot, placing it in a bowl of ice to chill it slightly before pouring a glass for Jordan and himself. When she didn't return from his room right away, he figured she was probably judging how much of a slob he was, preparing to give him a hard time about the state of his place. Several minutes went by, though, and he was starting to wonder what she was up to. Just as he was thinking of going after her, she reappeared from his room. Her eyes were wide and she looked up at him, questions written all over her face.

"Jordan, what…"

His voice trailed off when his eyes landed on the velvet box in her hand, the lid snapped back to reveal the glittering diamond ring he had bought for her. He felt his stomach drop, swallowing hard. It shouldn't be a big deal now, after all they had been through. They had reached the place he wanted them to be in without the use of that stupid ring, it shouldn't mean a damn thing. And yet, Woody was terrified that somehow that little piece of silver would send Jordan running out the door. Jordan walked slowly towards him.

"You kept it," she said quietly. "All this time, and you kept it?"

Her heart raced waiting for an answer. She could see Woody working for an explanation, anything to trivialize the fact that he had held onto this ring. Did he think she resented the fact that he had not returned it like he said he would? Or that she was angry at him for holding onto the hope of something more and yet telling her they were better off as friends, crushing her own hopes? She would not even know how to answer these questions if he asked her. Jordan felt all of it and none of it at once.

Woody panicked for a moment, and then realized it was pointless to try to play it safe. He hadn't spent the last week laying his heart on the table only to have to lie through his teeth again just to ease her qualms. He had no idea what she wanted. The only thing he was sure of was what he wanted.

"Yes, I kept it," he said, letting out a nervous breath. "I don't know, I guess…I guess I couldn't bring myself to return it because if I did, it would mean that it would be over. If I gave that ring back…then we would never happen. Because I would know I had no chance of ever placing it on your finger."

Woody finished talking, his jaw set solidly in his discomfort. Jordan listened to his confession, moved by the fact that he had never quite given up on her. In her heart, she had wanted to believe this to be true.

"I was ready to let you slip the ring on my finger that day," she said softly. Woody was not quite sure he had heard her correctly. "When you came back and told me we were better off as friends. I was ready to let you in."

"Oh God, I'm sorry Jo."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I pushed you away so much that you felt you had to push back," she said fervently as she walked closer to him. "I'm sorry for making you feel like what we had was insincere. I was just so scared…" her voice trailed off and she swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat.

Woody looked at her critically. He stepped nearer towards her, reaching out a hand to gently stroke her arm.

"What scared you, Jordan?" he asked gently. She took a deep breath and blinked away tears before answering him.

"My relationships have never been very lasting, Woody. Most of them were a string of 'love 'em and leave 'em' guys. They pursued me from the second they met me, and the moment they had me they lost interest. It was like a game to them." She looked into his eyes and caressed his face with her hand. "And then you came along…this charming, Midwestern Boy Scout who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be following in their footsteps. But you were different. You stayed. And even though I was falling harder and harder for you, this voice in the back of my mind kept screaming that you would leave me if I let you get too close." Jordan paused to swipe at the tears that were escaping her eyes. "I promised myself long ago that I would never fall for anyone that hard…I guess that sorta backfired, huh?" she laughed nervously.

Jordan was practically shaking, feeling very bare standing before him like this. For a moment, she was afraid that he was going to be angry or cold towards her. Despite what she had told him the night before, the fear of loving was still inside her. She had just done an extremely good job of knocking it away when it came to loving him. It was true that she was no longer afraid of him leaving her, but it was hard to exorcise nearly twenty years of bad experiences with men. But she was going to do her damnedest to try. She met Woody's eyes, and before she knew it he had her in his arms giving her the comfort she needed.

"I'm not those other guys, Jordan," he told her gently, rubbing her back soothingly. "There's no way I'm letting you go, you know that."

"I know," she sighed shakily. "I just hated realizing this week that I had denied you because I couldn't get over my past."

"Everyone's entitled to their past. You wouldn't be the person you are today if it weren't for your past. And I wouldn't want you to change for the world," Woody said, pulling back to look into her face. She smiled at him, her eyes shining a warm golden brown.

"So what about this?" she asked, bringing her hand up between them and holding the box open.

"What about this?"

"Don't play games with me, Hoyt," she said half seriously, poking him in the ribs. He jumped a little and rubbed his side. Then he took the box and removed the ring. It glistened in the light. Jordan could only imagine him making one decision here. She just prayed she was right.

"Well, Jordan, I don't want to move to fast," he began as he looked back to her eyes. "But I can't buy giving this to you as a 'friendship ring.' So how about meeting halfway…a promise ring?"

Jordan looked from the ring to him and smiled happily. She felt like her heart was going a million miles a second as Woody slipped the ring onto her right hand, kissing the spot before dropping his hands to her waist. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops on her jeans, tugging her nearer to him. Lowering his lips to hers, he gently pried her mouth open to deepen the kiss right away. Jordan laced her hands at the base of his neck, drawing him closer. She felt his hands sliding along her hips, tracing the waistline of her jeans. When she gasped blissfully at his touch, Woody decided it was time to take things elsewhere.

He guided her towards the bedroom, pieces of their clothing being shed along the way. He laid her down on the bed and loved her just as passionately and thoroughly as he had done the night before. And yet, it was so different in many ways. Jordan knew their relationship had morphed into something permanent, unyielding. And she loved him beyond belief for giving her that.

Some time later, they lay in the dark, Jordan tucked against Woody with his arms once again wrapped possessively around her. The moon shone down on the bed, casting their bodies into a luminescent glow. Woody held one of her hands in his, and they both watched the affect of the moonlight on their entwined fingers.

"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly.

"Sure."

"If I had just grabbed you and kissed you at some point in the last four years, would you have gone with it? I mean really gone with it?"

"Probably," Jordan said. She thought back momentarily on how many times she had wanted him to do just that. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhmm."

"Would you have felt this strongly if you did? Say, three years ago?"

Woody was quiet for a moment. "I sure as hell hope so," he answered. "But there's something to be said for waiting as long as we did. Knowing you for four years made me realize something I probably wouldn't have at the beginning."

"And what is that?"

"I found the love of my life the day I met you."


End file.
